Tonight I did something a little daring---and way out of my comfort zone. For years, the voice of Alex Band, lead singer of The Calling, has been my comfort, my muse, my internal bliss. My favorite band, hands down my favorite singer---ever. I would spend nights as a teenager outside laying on the top of the unfinished stairs, just gazing at the stars for hours and his voice would be the only thing I could hear.
He spoke to me without knowing me, was the one thing I could count on, can still count on, when my world was falling apart or when I just wanted to smile. Without understanding the power he has over me, he has sung the words of my soul, to my soul.
Added to that, he has the sexiest voice I have ever heard in my life and I'm pretty sure he is a musical GOD.
So...tonight I sent him an email via Facebook telling him all of that (including the god part. Oh, boy). I don't know why I did it. Maybe because I was thinking, "Why not?" Maybe because he's made a difference for me and I thought he should know. Because his words and his voice have made a difference. They've made my life better, given me hope when I could see none. And given me chills in a whole different way. But that's neither here nor there.
I don't know what I expected. No response, probably. Or maybe a bland response from a representative. What I in no way expected was a response within two hours from Alex Band himself, thanking me for letting him know how his music had affected me. (And assuring me that I never quite reached the point of sounding crazy as I'd feared. Which I could have.)
Let me tell you, I was walking on air. One of my idols, the one person I am DYING to meet, to get to know, to understand, the soul I am yearning to see, actually replied. TO ME. WHAT? I mean really, how often does that happen? How often does a celebrity respond personally to fan mail within a matter of hours. I don't even think it had been two. But I was in Heaven.
So then why did I feel disappointed when I thanked him for responding and received no further conversation? Because in my head, I had imagined we could be friends. (Told you I could sound crazy.) I have been half in love with him, the person who wrote the words of my favorite songs, who sang them in such a beautiful, emotionally charged way, for the last twelve years that some silly, fangirl part of me honestly believed maybe I would be able to get to know this amazing man. Foolish, yes. But still.
Why can't I just be satisfied with what I got? Such a gift. And yet... Maybe it's just my nature. Who knows? Maybe it's people in general that always see the grass as greener over the fence. Maybe we want to be seen as someone special, someone worthy of the extra attention, someone to be held above the rest. (Or maybe that's just me.) It has nothing to do with him being a celebrity. Nothing to do with fame, fortune or success and everything to do with the fact that he is continually changing my life and I think, maybe, I secretly wanted to return the favor. How do you repay a gift like that? How do you repay a stranger for being a constant comfort in your life?
Well, the answer is that you don't. So, I'll chastise myself for being greedy and I'll blissfully drift off to sleep with the knowledge that, at least in an abstract way, ALEX BAND KNOWS I EXIST.
Okay, maybe I'm still fangirling it a little bit. (Forgive me.)
(Just FYI, my dream birthday present? I want to actually meet Alex Band and it would be AMAZING to hear him sing in person. Just throwing that out into the universe.)
Do you believe in soul mates? I think I do. Not necessarily that there is one perfect match for each of us, because really, I believe there could be many. And nobody's perfect. What I mean is that there are certain people we all come across that we just connect with. They are people that from the very first instant get a glimpse inside to the very core of you and know exactly who you are. And they help you realize it as well.
I don't think it's always easy to be with your soul mates, as friends or otherwise. I think sometimes it's heartbreaking and terrifying, maddening and occasionally destructive. But at the same time it's gratifying and fulfilling, earth shattering and at times downright magnetic.
They are the people we're drawn to, perhaps over and over if you believe in past lives. The people we need to help show us who we are, who we can be and who we never hope to become. The people who can look at us and see the truth of our character, for better and for worse. You can't expect them to always be kind. Kindness gets you nowhere when what you need is the dark and twisted truth that lies within you. No, they are the ones that help you see who you truly are, layer by layer. And then they help you accept it.
There are a few people that I've had that instant connection with. Those people who have seen the worst, deepest parts of me and still make me feel like I'm worth everything in the entire world, even when I can't see it myself. They are the few that I can tell absolutely anything to. And I have, without question. For the most part.
I've always wished that those people could see themselves through my eyes. I wish they could see how wonderful and magnificent they are, one in particular. To know that every doubt they have ever had about who they really are, while well founded to them, is just that: a doubt. It has no hold in reality.
It's funny, but the people I'm thinking of are actually all quite similar---while remaining drastically different---and in this case, all three are male. From the moment I met each of them, there was an unexplainable bond that has baffled me, but which I can't deny. I see him as vulnerable, yet invincible. Flawed, yet magnificent. It is his ability to live in darkness but still have his soul shine so bright, relatively untainted, that speaks to me so fully. And yet, he usually cannot see it. He looks in the mirror and sees someone with no true confidence in himself, who possibly does not deserve happiness. Oh, if only he could see what I see. He would never doubt himself or his worth again. (Actually, his ego would probably swell to the size of a house, so maybe he should see through more of a rosy haze.)
Then there are other types of soul mates. Those that you bond with who just get you, and those that balance you out. Sometimes the old adage that opposites attract is true and it's the differences between the two of you that make whatever relationship you have work. I have been blessed with a few of these people. Whether they fit into the above category or are strictly in this one, I thank God every day for the amazing gifts I have been bestowed in my friends and my family. And for my brother, who is the other half of my soul.
There are many definitions of soul mates. Most I think are too narrow to truly fit. But what if the many definitions describe the different types of mates our souls need? As humans, we are faceted creatures, akin to diamonds. So many different parts of our personalities make up one brilliant whole. Some of us are more flawed than others, but still, we come together nicely (we hope). So it stands to reason that there are some souls that are fated to meet. They don't have to be the same personalities to fit together with one part of our soul or another, but they do have to fit in a way that is magic in and of itself.
And, if you find one---or sometimes many---that brings out the best in you, challenges you to be the best version of yourself that you can, shows you when you fail and helps support you as you pull yourself up, hold onto them. Whether you believe in soul mates or not, they found you in this life for a reason, even if that reason was to serve a purpose and then leave.
I guess it's a play on the saying, "everything happens for a reason." Maybe we're all circling around the same people in every life, just waiting to learn the lessons we need to learn. I plan to soak up all the knowledge I can, and for those who were just a passing thing---and for the one whom I really no longer speak to---I'll take heart in the idea that maybe, just maybe, I served as much a purpose for you as you did for me.
Because remember, soul mates, however fleeting are mates for a reason and that reason is never just one sided.
Sometimes I think we torture ourselves. Or maybe that's just me. The past, the present, dreams of the future, asleep or awake. It doesn't matter. You can always find yourself pulled into something that you wish you could just get out of.
The sad thing is, willpower would do it. I just don't have any. Where this particular character is concerned, I can apparently not stay away. Happiness is a good thing. I know it is. This is what I wanted, and it happened. So let me repeat: It. Is. Torture. And I'm doing it to myself.
Gotta love a good memory. And Valentine's Day. (Can I just say, "ugh"?)
(Sometimes you just need a place to spill your guts---even if I am being vague.)
Putting yourself out there is hard. It's like baring a piece of your soul and asking people---usually strangers---to love you. Or just give you a chance.
When I first started writing, (I think it's been eleven years now) I showed my work to very few people. Those that did get to see it were people I trusted completely. Over the years that number has expanded, but it wasn't until recently that I let people I didn't actually know read, judge and criticize my writing. It was like laying my dreams at their feet---your feet---and begging them not to stomp all over them.
I write this today because I have received my first rejection letter of 2014 on my quest for a literary agent. And while I know it's just part of the process, it still stings a bit. In 2013 I stopped querying agents for a while to do another edit on my manuscript. At least, that's what I told myself. In reality I think I was just tired of being told no. No matter what we tell ourselves about persevering and never giving up, every rejection is a blow to a writer's confidence.
But don't worry, (and I won't either) I really have been working on my novel and I don't back down so easily. I know that the writers who succeed and become authors are the ones that kept going, kept pushing and who got knocked down one day but got up the next to try again.
Like I always tell my daughter, (though she be only three) you only fail if you give up. It doesn't matter if you succeed right away or sometimes even at all, it only matters that you try. That way if you do end up changing your dream, you know you gave it everything you've got and there will be no regrets. One of these days I swear she's going to say that back to me and I hope it's because she's reminding me, not because I've disappointed her.
All traditionally published authors (and some indie ones as well) have gone through this process. They made it and so will I. Sometimes I just need to remind myself of that.
And to vent. Because sometimes venting does wonders for the soul.
I have discovered evil. It's not an ancient evil, unfortunately. In fact, it is an incredibly modern evil. One that, like most things that aren't necessarily good for me, I once held dear.
At one point in time, when I was much younger and not yet aware of the error of my ways, this evil was my constant companion. I now know better. This evil is intrusive, disruptive and the bane of my existence. It is my nemesis, my true enemy and at times, my arch rival. It encroaches on its query's territory with reckless abandon, ambushing and waging war using guerilla tactics and blitz attacks. Ironically, I discovered this evil on Halloween. It has been ruthlessly plaguing me ever since.
This nefarious foe goes by the name of Glitter.
Now, you may be laughing, believing me to be dramatic. However, when you encounter an enemy so resistant and cunning as I have found Glitter to be, you would not find it amusing. Or maybe you would.
No matter where I go, where I look, there it is. Always watching, always waiting and no matter what I try, I cannot defeat it.
There was a time, not long ago, when I believed I had beaten this evil. Until one day I turned around and there it was.
You may have won the battle, but I promise you, I will win the war. Well played, Glitter. Well played.
