Member-only story
The Clouded Line I
THE LINE BETWEEN WHAT WE WRITE AND WHAT WE LIVE
SOMETIMES GETS CLOUDED.
I am a writer. I am a damn good writer. I am a writer blessed with a near-perfect life. I live on beautiful Lake Johnson in North Carolina. My desk overlooks the lake. I write by day and bartend by night. Bartending affords me the luxury to write all day.
I live with what could be described as the near-perfect woman. Annie is as beautiful inside and out. We care and love each other dearly and are blessed with an amazing relationship where we never bicker or argue. She is as smart as she is beautiful.
We can talk for hours and hours and are never bored with each other. We stand side by side and cook amazing meals. She loves rescuing all the dogs in the world that need rescuing and I support her in her craziness. I don’t even question her any longer. I just ask “boy or girl?” “ Does it have a name yet?” “How long do you think we will be keeping it?”
She has the softest touch that a man could ever experience. My heart still jumps when I see her coming. Her eyes change colors and sparkle when she is excited. She, too, makes a great income so we have zero financial worries. I am truly blessed.
Today I came home early. She was not yet home from work when I saw her diary on her nightstand. She has never left her diary…
