A Love Story in Progress

Follow your dreams

Brushing a girl’s hair
behind her ear
once a day
will solve more problems
than all those
therapists
and drugs.
– Atticus

I’m writing a love story. I thought I was stuck. Last weekend, I thought I’d never get past this mess of my own heart. The pieces still broken – fearing hope.

But the story lay hidden beneath the fear – the fear living closer to the surface.

Something changed yesterday though. I’m writing the story. I found the words. I found what I needed through a quiet challenge from God in the middle of my CPR/First Aid class – have faith. Someday maybe I’ll explain that in detail.

But for now, the love story I most want to write, is being written.

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. – Maya Angelou

This love I have wanted to write about? It’s the kind of love that is rooted in friendship. It’s the kind of love that gives you a vision of your future in someone else’s eyes. It’s the kind of love that ignites your belief in another’s gifts and talents far beyond what they even see for themselves.

It’s the kind of love that is passion and fire but comfort and normal. It’s the kind of love that brings a sense of calm in the midst of trial, when he brushes your hair behind your ear – his tenderness toward you is all you need. Or maybe how with one look, he knows what you need before you even speak. And above all else, it’s the kind of love shared by two broken people that didn’t fit anywhere else.

It’s the kind of love you do the hard way.

So I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way. – Keith Urban

I’m responding in faith in a lot of areas right now, my writing is no different. This is the story I most want to write.

A Love Story

Tyler Knott Gregson, love, poetry, love story

When I was a little girl, I used to dream up love stories. It’s a curse, I tell you. It has followed me past 40 and right on into my 42nd year. Except now I write the love stories instead of just dreaming of them.

When you write love stories, you should probably find a way to balance that creative, romantic mind of yours with real life. I’d rather not sometimes. Lately I’ve been working hard at this. But failing. Miserably.

The love story I’d write for myself certainly wouldn’t start at 40, 41, or 42. But one thing I know for sure? When it happens, I won’t be giving up easily or throwing in the towel when things get weird and it’s easier to walk away.

The other thing I know for sure? All this waiting has worn me thin and tired at the edges. Worn thin and tired. When you find it and it slips away or you question on the quiet, lonely nights if he’s ever going to show up on your doorstep, you convince yourself to give up. It’s all for the best, dear heart – you say to yourself. And then what? I hang on a little longer, my heart ever hopeful until I am reminded of where I sit and where he sits.

Tonight, after 20 hard days that followed some dark months at the end of last year, my heart is tired. My heart is worn thin & tired, friends. The love story I most want to write won’t float to the surface because my greatest fear lives there.

Worn thin and tired.

Won’t you come home to me now? What’s with this waiting, my dear friend? These are the questions I would ask him if I could. The Goo Goo Dolls have a sweet and light song called “Come to Me.” Ryan Adams has one too {he’s one of my favorites} but it’s a little sadder.

“Come to me my sweetest friend…”

“History is like gravity, it holds you down, away from me”

Here on this edge, this quiet place, where I’m tired of living without him, I’m fighting for hope sitting here in this empty house. Won’t you come to me, my sweetest friend? Sit with me – right here next to me – so we can patch up these worn and frayed edges.

Eastern NC is my Muse

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I once wrote a blog post about how my fiction writing abilities dried up when I moved back to California, from North Carolina. When I finally got back to NC in 2012, my muse? Totally revisited me. P.S. If you’re a writer and haven’t seen “The Muse” with Albert Brooks & Sharon Stone . . . you MUST.

Chasing Hope  is set in the small coastal town of Beaufort. Beaufort won my heart in 2001 when I moved to Eastern Carolina the first time. In 2012, Beaufort won a little contest which named it the “America’s Coolest Small Town” by Budget Travel. Read a feature here.

It’s a special place and I still dream of owning a house downtown. Someday . . . maybe I will!

Here are a few photos of this gorgeous little town.

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