Day 73

Day 73 of the 365 Day Gratitude Challenge.

I’m grateful it’s day 73. And I am grateful for changes.

Earlier today, I wrote this story as part of the prompts. I worked really hard on it and I thought I was being clever. That’s my problem. I was thinking. 

Well someone made a comment on it, and with comments like that, usually more are to follow because you’re often looking at the comments in order to find something to say.

I stopped writing my chapter stories. And I made this story 100 words precisely. They call it a drabble.

So I’m thinking I’m a shitty writer and I’ll never amount to anything writing wise in this world.

I will be moving away from Blogophilia. Not that I was popular on there to begin with. I’m grateful for new beginnings.

I’m a little sad right now. I’m hoping sleep will help.








The Charm Bracelet

Written by ©Diana Jillian 9/22/12

Lonely in my solitude listening only to Evanescence and Chris Cornell, I realized I had to get out there and live my life.

“It’s time to stop feeling sorry for myself,” I scolded myself.  “You need to stop giving up on yourself every time the going gets tough.”

“Ugh, I know all this,” I think back to myself as “Hello” is playing in my head.

“Hello, I am your mind giving you someone to talk to.”

I look down at the charm bracelet my beloved once gave me.  I haven’t taken it off and I don’t intend to ever take it off.  It is a symbol of our love.  Well, it was a symbol of our love for that love has now perished and all I am left with is this bracelet he gave me.

I remember how he gave me the bracelet.  He whispered in my ear, “Always think of me when wearing this.”  I never anticipated those being his last words to me.  Not ever.  And so I have had this charm bracelet on my wrist after all of these years.

This is all I have left.  I touch the charms with my other hand and look up to notice I’m not in the desolate comfort of my own home.

This place.  I can’t explain but it looks like a place I’ve been many times before.

A lush green field with a forest full of trees.  It all looks and smells wonderful.  I can smell the fresh scent of pine and rosemary and it makes me smile.  I can’t remember the last time I smiled.  Then it dawned on me.

My beloved and I went to a forest like this when we first met.  When walking further in the forest, there was a fragrant garden full of flowers.  He picked out the black hollyhock.  I don’t know how he knew they were my favorite but he always knew things about me.

He knew my favorite color was green and that’s why he chose to take me to the evergreen forest. He knew my favorite flower, he even knew my favorite kind of music.

“Follow My Way,” is echoing from the distance, breaking me from my reverie.  I walk closer to see what is going on.

As I walk, the music gets a bit louder.  I find myself in that very same flower garden with the melodic words playing.

“So follow my way, when I am falling from your heart, When I’m the pain, fever and sweet relief in one.”

I follow the melody and there is someone who has their back towards me.  I am vaguely remembering this person and then I realize who it is.  My beloved.

I inch closer towards him remembering his sweet, spicy scent.  His hair is a coconut brown as how I remembered him from years ago.  From behind, he looks ageless.  Maybe this is a land that never dies.

With anticipation, I walk closer, hoping he will remember me.  I walk around him to face him and then I realize.

It’s not him.

Just a skeleton.

“Always think of me.”  I hear the whispers in the form of echoes.

I close my eyes and sob as the skeleton turns to dust and washes away in the wind.

When I open my eyes, I learn I am in my desolate room again.  It was just a dream.  I pull my headphones off, give a sigh, and go out and face the day.

After all, if there’s one thing my beloved taught me.  He taught me to live each day to it’s fullest.

Music references from the song Hello by Evanescence and Follow My way by Chris Cornell. No copyright infringement intended.

Written by ©Diana Jillian


PS:  Feel free to leave me your links in the comments section.  I am a few weeks behind on commenting on blogs from a previous group I am in…But I will get to your blogs eventually!



Brown Eyes

His blue eyes are staring deeply into my brown eyes as I am trying to open my mouth to give him an answer.  I find myself opening and closing my mouth several times.  Finally, I decide to speak.

“It doesn’t matter what my answer is,” I tell him.

“It does to me.”

“Why?  It’s not going to change anything.”

“It will for me,” he replies.

“I don’t see how,” I begin.  “It doesn’t matter.  I made a promise, and when I make a promise, I never go back on my word.  And this is why I don’t make promises.”

“Then why did you promise him?”  He refers to “him” as if we were saying a bad word or something.

I just gave a short laugh.  “Because he was sick and dying, that’s why,” I said.  “And we’ve been together a long time.  Why wouldn’t I make him a promise?”

He stands still for a moment.  I can tell he’s contemplating what I’m saying.  “True,” he finally speaks.  “We never met when you made that promise.”

“And now it’s too late,” I say.

“You do know it’s okay to be in love with two different people,” he asks rhetorically.

“I barely know you,” I find myself say.

“Yes, but you knew immediately when you saw me.  You had to have known.  I knew right away.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I can make it simple for you.”

I look up at him.  “How so?”

“If you don’t, I’ll walk away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he replied.  “All you have to do is have your brown eyes meet my blue eyes, and tell me you don’t love me.”

Lying was how I survived in an abusive household.  Even though I hate lying, I know enough to lie to save myself.  I prefer to be honest so that way I would never have to worry about what lie I made.  But this was a different kind of lie.

This lie I will always remember.  It will possibly be my biggest regret yet.  Who knows?  I guess only time will tell.  I hope in time, I can get passed this, and move on.  Maybe one day I’ll be able to forget what I’m about to tell him.

He wants to know if I love him.  I take in a deep breath, and look him in those blue eyes of his.

“No,” I lie.  “I don’t love you,” I say.  Then I turn around and walk away.

I don’t even know how he found me considering I am here at the library’s park, attending a ceremony he wasn’t invited to.  I press the key-less entry button to unlock my car door.  I go to open the door, when suddenly there’s a force that shuts the door.  In an instant, I am being turned around.

It’s him.  His hands are pinning my shoulders against my vehicle.

“You’re a liar,” he says.

“What makes you say that?”  My breath betrays me.  I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.

“Your eyes change color.”

“My eyes are only brown.”

“And they turn a golden color when you’re not telling the truth.”

“It’s seldom I lie,” I admit.


“To protect myself.”

“From me?”

“Especially from you.”

He smiles, and leans in to kiss me.

I turn away.  “Please don’t.”

I’m not really sure of much at this moment.  My story is a long story, but it can be summed up in a short story.

Long story short, my husband and I weren’t always on good terms. I wanted a child and he didn’t. I was ready to leave him but he got sick. We got married because it was his dying wish. I had no idea someone else would ever come along and possibly ruin all of that.

For one reason, I am too old to get caught up in silly things like romance and such.  I’ve accepted a long time ago that love was something that will never be for me.  I’m spiritually evolved, I can handle it.

Suddenly this guy comes along, and I feel things I shouldn’t feel.  It’s got to stop!

Unfortunately, some stories don’t get a happy ending.  My story will never be a happy ending.

My brown eyes will forever be blue.

Written by ©Diana Jillian


PS:  Feel free to leave me your links in the comments section.  I am a few weeks behind on commenting on blogs from a previous group I am in…But I will get to your blogs eventually!




Letting Go

Mandy sighed at her dilemma.  She didn’t know quite how to handle her work-related situation anymore.

She had gotten a job working at a gym, watching kids while the parents work out and such.  Her co-worker was her childs’ age, and the two knew each other already.  The girl was only a teenager, working on partial days, and  yet Mandy couldn’t begin to fathom why Kayla was working there at all.  Kayla would leave the room half the time during their shift, leaving Mandy to handle the rowdy kids that came along.

Tuesday and Thursday nights are their busy nights.  Those are the days when it’s mandatory for two people to be present in the babysitting room.  Half the time, there was always a dilemma for Kayla, and she would either have to take the day off, or to leave early.  Mandy couldn’t understand how Kayla still had the job other than the fact that her mother was one of the hiring people that worked there.

Of course, granted, Mandy’s mother-in-law works there too, and that’s how Mandy got a job there.  She just needed something after taking a four-year hiatus off work to homeschool her kid, and to take care of her sick husband.

Months went by, and sometime in May–Maybe early May–the air conditioning at the job went out.  The babysitting room was already hot as it was when the AC was on.  The room just wasn’t very well ventilated.  Alright, that was fine by Mandy, they would have the air conditioning fixed soon, right?


Several weeks had passed and the air conditioner still wasn’t fixed.  On top of that, they cut the babysitting room in half.  It was already a small cubicle, and they decided to cut it in half.

It was up to Kayla and Mandy to rearrange the room.  Mandy tried the best she could, but on the days she wasn’t there, Kayla felt some things needed to be changed.  Kayla is only there right now because it’s summertime, and she will be back to her lackadaisical self once school resumes.

Mandy couldn’t help but notice how “open” the room was.  Mandy tried to explain to Kayla that the room isn’t supposed to be so open because kids could run around and get hurt.  She begs to differ, and by that point, Mandy just gave up and basically told Kayla to do what she wants because Mandy was in no mood to argue with someone who is going to have an answer for everything and say the opposite of what she is suggesting.

Mandy threw her hands up in the air.  She’s only spent 30+ something years on this earth.  Everything that Mandy has ever said has come true.  It may not happen right away, it may not happen next week, or in a year from now, but it does happen.  Everything that Mandy has ever said has come true.

But then again, what does Mandy know?  She only went to school and worked her butt off to get her degree in early childhood education.  She only knows the rules and regulation codes that are supposed to be there, but somehow this gym has the children and health department in their pockets.

But that’s OKAY!  She’s guesses we’ll all see how it all goes down when the house of cards goes tumbling down…and it usually does.

Let Karma Take Over

Caitlyn’s Dream

Caitlyn is always in a dream-like state of mind.  Her head is always up in the clouds, and she is constantly dreaming of fairytale endings to get her through her day.  Her life is sadly ordinary.  It’s not really ordinary, but this is how she views her life.

The truth is she’s a housewife and a mother of one.  Her only child is eighteen years of age, and she had thought that by now, her life would have more meaning after thirty-something years of life here on earth.

Caitlyn wanted so badly to have another child.  All her life, she dreamt of having a daughter.  And why not?  She had a son, why not a daughter?  But that dream never happened for her and now with her kid all grown up, she feels it would be wasteful to have another child at this point in her life.

She was planning on running away; getting away from the ordinary life she lived once her son turned eighteen.  Her husband of fifteen years didn’t want to have any kids of his own.  He once told Caitlyn that meeting her with a kid was a bonus, because his goal was to never father a child in his life ever.

Of course, this broke Caitlyn’s heart.  She loved her husband more than anything, but she knew that eventually, she would have resentment towards him for not giving her a child all those years ago.  So she decided she was going to leave him once her son turned eighteen.  Sadly, that chance never happened.

For the past two years, Caitlyn’s husband has been sick.  Not to mention Caitlyn herself had been taken off the medical system because she no longer had a kid under 18, nor was she pregnant, nor did she have a disability.

She was a housewife with high anxiety and depression.  Anxiety and depression are not visible disabilities, so the government doesn’t see this as a legal excuse to be considered disabled.  There is no such funding for being a housewife and a caregiver.  So that left her stuck, and often entrapped in her dreams.

She believes that somewhere out there, in a parallel universe perhaps, she’s living the life she’s only dreamed about.  How else can you explain the constant dreaming of being with this guy and not realizing you’re stuck in a continuum of a dream?

Caitlyn knows and realizes the possibility of a parallel universe, and it makes her jealous.  She is jealous of her parallel self.  Why couldn’t such a beautiful life had happened for this Caitlyn in this life?

She will always sigh and cry, wondering where she went wrong in her life.  Why she can’t get a job in this reality, and why she is struggling to make ends meet.

Sometimes it be that way???



Working in one of those smoky dives, which makes the place seem so small, Addison wondered how she was going to tell Harold she needed to hold off on their plans to get hitched.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him; she happened to have loved him very much.  However, working in a Speakeasy in the 1930’s was a dangerous thing to do.  If the coppers ever busted that place, Addy, and those around her—including Harold—would be held accountable.

Addison decided it would be best to find a better solution of work before taking the plunge.  Harold had told her not to worry about money.  He said, “Money is no object.”

She knew that.  However, being the modern woman she was, she didn’t want people to think of her as a gold digger.

“They wouldn’t think of you that way, my love,” Harold had promised her.  “We’ll get married, and live far away from here.  I am the king, and you’ll be my queen.  We’ll be together forever.”

His words reminded her of the one time the fortune teller showed up and gave Addy a reading.  The teller once told her the same thing similar to Harold’s words.  She told Addison she would live like a queen forever.  She sighed at the thought because she knew the truth.  Harold made a decent living, not enough to live like royalty, but it didn’t matter to Addison if he was rich or poor.  She loved him, and she swore she would love him forever.

She gave herself a mental shake and replied, “I know, darling.  It’ll seem that way.”  She remembered how he smiled at her last words.  It was almost as if he was keeping a joke hidden from her.

“Sweetheart!”  A customer called out, breaking Addison away from her reverie.  “Another Manhattan, please.”

She nodded, and headed over to the bar.

“Hey Johnny,” she greeted the bartender.  “Another Manhattan for the gentleman over there.”

“Sure thing, dolls,” He said.  He started to put ice in the glass when he noticed what he was missing.  “Hey, would you mind being a doll, and see if we have anymore vermouth back there.  It seems I’m all out.”

“Yeah, sure.  No problem, Johnny.”  She headed to the back to go look.

When she opened up the door to the back room where all the extra liquor was, she noticed something was different.  The room looked a tad different, and there was no liquor there.

She decided to close the door to ask her boss where the extra liquor was, but as she shut the door, she found she was no longer in the Speakeasy.

“This can’t be right,” she said to herself.  There had to have been something wrong.  What was she forgetting?

She started to wander down the corridor from where she shut the door, and noticed this wasn’t any ordinary hallway.  The walls had an old and charming, yet, Gothic look to them.  And she noticed pictures on the walls.  These pictures led all the way up a set of stairs.

She lifted up her nightgown to walk up the stairs, when it dawned on her.  How did she get into a nightgown?  Why didn’t she remember leaving the bar?  All these questions circled her mind as she stopped dead in her tracks on the stairs to stare at this one particular picture on the wall.

“Harold?”  She questioned.  Surely she must be dreaming.  How else would she explain having no memory of how she got into this place?  What is this place?  She thought.  A castle, maybe.  No!  It can’t be.

She hit her head!  Yes! That’s what it was.  Addison was sure she hit her head and passed out, and someone would wake her up soon enough.  But the problem was she wasn’t waking up.  And just then, a pair of eyes fixated on her.  She looked into those eyes, and ran into his arms.

“Harold,” she exclaimed.  “I don’t understand what is going on.”

“Shh, my love,” he held her tight.  “You’re still new, but soon enough you will remember everything.”

She shook her head as she wept.  “No, something isn’t right.  I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”  She broke free and looked up at him.  “You’re going to disappear from me, aren’t you?”

“I can assure you, darling, you are not dreaming, and I will never leave you,” he consoled her.  “You’re just missing bits and pieces.  It’ll come to you in time.”

“I don’t understand,” she spoke softly.  She looked around some more and asked, “Where are we?”

“Didn’t I promise you we would live like a king and queen?”  He took a step back and held his hand out to her.  “No one will harm you here.  It isn’t the Bran Castle, but I think you’ll find this place more homely.  Come.  Take my hand.  Let’s go back to bed.”

With a teary eye, she took his hand.  Harold was the only one in the world she ever felt safe around.  Why would he ever steer her wrong?

As he led her back down the corridor, flashes of memory appeared before her.

When she opened the door to the back room at the bar, Harold was there.  Her memory was still a bit fuzzy, but she did remember leaving with him, and getting married after all.  She also remembered something else.

They headed back to the castle, and into the bedroom where they had a night of passion, and they were feeding each other.  And then.

No, she thought.  It can’t be.  But as much as she tried to deny it, it still entered her mind.

She remembered what Harold asked her.  “Do you trust me?”

“Forever,” Addison replied.

He smiled that smile that told it was another inside joke, but still, he smiled at her.  “I’ll see you again in a few hours.”  And with those words, he plunged his sword deep into her chest.

Addison gasped at the blurred memory.

Harold noticed this, and quickly laid her down on the bed.  “What’s wrong?”

“You stabbed me,” she grabbed her chest where she had been stabbed, but noticed there was no wound there.  Even her nightgown was clean.  “Well, I thought you did.”

“Oh, but I did, my love,” he admitted shamefully.

“But why?”

“It is the only way to spend forever with me.”


©Diana Jillian 10/27/14

Am I Remembered?


I am lost in the world of the unknown
I sigh as I keep looking in the rear view mirror
I keep on torturing myself, unbeknownst to me


It’s beyond me

I often wonder if those I had once left behind
Left them behind, I might say, for good reason
Do they ever even stop to think about me?

When a birthday passes by
Or a silly, subtle little reminder
Was I ever really on their minds?

Was I ever really a care?
In the lost pretend world of make-believe
As we now all know how Hollywood writers feel

Closeness of friends and family doesn’t exist like it does on TV
You are a forgotten thought, forever lost in a cobweb of memory
To only be thought of only when it’s convenient for them

Thank you for f-ing with my mind, Hollywood
And now I know why I no longer buy into your propaganda
You give a falsely sense of comfort, only to rip it away with reality


It’s beyond me.

Written 9/22/14 by ©Diana Jillian