Staring at a black screen is scary and yet open to all possibilities. I can write about anything I want. That should be fun and exciting. I'm finding the challenge daunting.
What keeps replaying over and over in my mind is negativity. Not that I'm being negative, but trying to fight it. It is a difficult task to maintain a positive outlook on life or even the day when I'm surrounded by verbal regurgitation that is full of negativity. Constant complaining. Constant talk of impending failure. Gossip and overexaggeration.
My reaction is to become very quiet. I don't know what to say to combat the words. I myself have been a complainer about many things. I complained about former jobs and employers. I complained about the weekend noise level in my old apartment from the bar downstairs. I complained about roommates. I complained about my current apartment. I realize that putting all those complaints into the universe means the universe is going to give me back nothing but things to complain about.
I'm alive. I'm healthy. I have a job. I have a place to live. I have friends and family who love me. I am blessed.
I've decided to share a little bit of a writing project that I started in the most recent past. It's something that is positive and makes me happy.
The Crest opens tonight. My mother and father are going to be so surprised to see me. Even more surprising will be seeing their grandson for the first time. I was supposed to give him away. I couldn’t. I knew from the moment my mother left me in Paris that I was not going to give him away. I might not be with his father anymore, but that was a happy time in my life, and my child is not a mistake.
His father will be at the opening tonight. He doesn’t know about his son either. He thinks that after we broke up I went to Paris to clear my head and then decided to stay. I’ve been away for two years. I want nothing from Toren, but if he wants to be a part of Jarrod’s life then nothing would make me happier. If by some twist of fate his love for Jarrod brings us back together, my son will have both of his parents, and I’ll have the love of my life.
My parents, Marshall and Claire Sullenger, were ashamed of me. I say my parents, but really it was my mother. She was convinced that people would talk, and she didn’t want to deal with the stares that were certain to come her way for having an unwed, pregnant daughter. There was a brief moment when I thought my life was ruined. Then I realized that I was going to have a baby, Toren’s baby. Our child would be something beautiful I could treasure as a reminder of the love we shared.
I have no idea how I’m going to feel when I actually see Toren again. Paris has been like living in a bubble with my son. I’ve been treasuring what was, thinking I’m strong, thinking I’ve moved past our failed romance. I’m not sure I’m actually prepared. If he looks at me with shock that I’m here or wants nothing to do with Jarrod, I’ll be crushed. If he thinks Jarrod isn’t his child, I’ll be devastated.
What I am excited about is seeing The Crest. This once glorious old hotel in downtown Milhaven, formerly know as The Hotel Victor, has sat in near ruins all of my life. I’ve seen pictures of it in its heyday, and it looks like it was the place to be. Pictures of beautiful women in gorgeous gowns on the arms of handsome tuxedo clad men. Glamorous parties. Sepia toned women sipping martinis in the hotel bar. A lifetime ago when dinner was an occasion to wear diamonds. Most of the pictures I’ve seen are in the attic of my parent’s brownstone. The stories to go with the photos came from my grandfather, Preston Sullenger. He heard them from his father, William Sullenger. My great-grandfather used to work as a doorman at The Hotel Victor in the early 1920’s....
I have to have less complaining and negativity and more thankfulness and positivity.