Late Night Musings #2

#‎latenightmusings‬

I was never taught to love myself. All the different parts of me that make me unique. I was never taught to be unapologetically flawed. Many days I’m not sure how I’ve made it this far… the self-hate was debilitating. Everyday I painted a smile on my face and got up to face another day. When all the while I was dying inside. Death was eating away at every part of me. I lived in fear constantly. Sleeping with knives under my pillow. Thinking tonight would be the night it all ended. Startled out of my sleep by the sound of shouting. I remember feeling as if my heart would beat out of my chest. I remember thinking someone may die tonight. I remember thinking why is it always me? Why am I the one putting myself in danger to make sure nothing permanent happens?

Why doesn’t anyone see the lies behind my smile? The violence just under the surface? Locking myself in my room didn’t help to quite the voices. Locking myself in my room didn’t make what was going on go away. When most people think of abuse they think of the physical but no one recognizes that sometimes the emotional abuse is a pill much harder to swallow. For years I hated my existence. I didn’t understand why my family life wasn’t perfect. I didn’t understand why it seemed like the walls were closing in on me. I grew up before I should have. Surprised a lot of the pain. The shame. The misery. The hate I have is still strong… it’s still pure. What happens when you don’t feel safe at home… the one place you should above all others? What happens when grown men try to force themselves on you and you feel you have nowhere but to turn? I was never taught to love myself so I went searching for it in all the wrong places. It’s hard to dispel the cycle. It’s hard to remove yourself from the continuous loop. It’s hard to break the silence. I should have left.

I stared death in the face a time or two and I’m surprised I’m still here. I was threatened in high school. Told I would be tossed out a two-story window… in the place I was supposed to feel safe. Loved. Protected. Instead I felt fear. Hopelessness. Rage. Why would you let your child endure such hardships? Why would you stay? Most importantly why the hell did I?

Cover Reveal – Crave Me by M. Robinson

COVER REVEAL
CRAVE ME
BESTSELLING AUTHOR M.
ROBINSON
COVER MODEL MITCH
MCKERSIE
COVER DESIGN THE FINAL WRAP
RELEASE MAY 10TH
They say in order to find yourself you have to go home.
What if home was what you’re running from?
Where did that leave you?
Always on the other side of the fence.
Always looking in.
Always wishing you were someone you couldn’t be.
Until one day you meet her.
The one.
She was my high, but she was also…
My demise.

 

Colors blended together making it hard to focus on one thing. I blinked a few times and just like that…
I saw her face.
As if she was standing right in front of me.
Smiling.
Happy.
Laughing.
My whole world…
My girl.
I felt my lips curl up slightly at the vision as I reached out for her. Wanting to touch her, needing to hold her, yearning to kiss her. Craving, God, craving to fucking love her.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured out loud to no one but the illusion of my drug-infested mind. “I’m so fucking sorry,” I repeated repentantly, longing for her to believe me.
Aching for her to love me again like she used to.
I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at her beautiful face before my eyes, subconsciously rubbing the tattooed key that was placed over my heart. I couldn’t take it anymore, and the desire won over the haze.
It was too powerful.
It was too vivid.
I grabbed my phone. “Baby,” I said into the speaker. The ringing quickly followed, going straight to voicemail. I hung up and tried again. “Baby,” I
urged with desperation in my tone.
Still nothing.
I tried again and again and again.
I would try until the end of time if that’s what it took for her to answer.
To talk to me.
To save me.
To crave me.
Time just seemed to standstill, as my life slowly played out in front of me. Trying to balance in between the light and the darkness when all I could see was gray.
“What?!” she screamed into the phone, finally answering after I don’t know how many failed attempts. “What the hell do you want now?”
“Mi cielo.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
She ignored my term of endearment. I hadn’t called her that in such a long time.
My heaven.
“What do you want, Austin? Why are you calling me? We’re over! I can’t do this anymore!”  
I shut my eyes and let my mind wonder, allowing it to go to another place in time where she didn’t hate me.
“I remember the first time I made you smile,” I chuckled, as if it had just happened.
My nerves were on fire. The mere sound of her breathing through the phone was too intense for me. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I remember when you used to smile just for me. Do you remember, baby? Do you remember what my love feels like?”
I heard her faintly breathing.
“Do you remember my hands on you? My lips? My tongue? The first time I made you come with my mouth? Do you remember all the times since? Tell me I’m not forgotten. Tell me you remember, baby.”
Silence.
“I love you, Briggs. I love you so fucking much. You’re killing me, don’t you see that? I’m dying without you.”
“No, Austin. You were dying with me,” she rasped, knowing that it killed her to say that.
“The first time I saw your face, I thought to myself, damn, this beautiful girl is goin’ to be the death of me. You were perfect in every way. I was a cocky son of a bitch who needed you then, as much as I need you now.” 
More silence.
“I had a dream about you, baby. I always fucking dream about you. In my dream you had a ring on your finger. A ring I put there. You belonged to me. Only mine.
Forever fucking mine. You were pregnant, Briggs. You looked so goddamn happy. I saw light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in years.”
She sniffled into the phone.
“I made love to you. Slow, just the way you love. Taking my time to touch every last inch of your body. Memorizing every last bit of you. Making you come until you begged me to stop. I didn’t.”
“I can’t—” she tried to interject, but I didn’t let up.
“I kissed your stomach. Our baby. Letting my lips linger there, whispering sweet lullabies, letting her know daddy will always be there. Baby, it was so real.
For a second I gave you the one thing you so desperately wanted, the one thing I can’t give you.”

 

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Bestselling author of The VIP Trilogy, Tempting Bad, Two Sides Gianna, and The Good Ol’ Boys series. M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst, romance, triangles,
cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stein. She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat.
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Cover Reveal – #AmWriting – A Collection of Letters

AmWriting Cover PlaceholderKnowing what you know now of writing, publishing, and putting your art out into the world, if you could go back to the day you sat down to start typing in your very first manuscript, what words would you offer to yourself? Words of encouragement? Words of advice? Caution against certain pitfalls? Would you change anything about how you got to where you are today?

The publishing community is so much bigger than it was before the self-publishing boom and it continues to grow exponentially every day. Unfortunately, it doesn’t come with a handbook or support group. The book is to provide words of encouragement or advice to those just starting out or those who have become discouraged in their art. At Pure Textuality PR, we believe in supporting each other as a community, and we felt this project would be a good way to bring writers together and maybe give some new artists just the right nudge to keep going.

100% of the net proceeds of #amwriting will go to benefit The Wayne Foundation, a charity dedicated to offering aid and services to young women victimized by illegal sexual exploitation and the sexual trafficking of minors.

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Continue reading Cover Reveal – #AmWriting – A Collection of Letters

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