A Farewell to May

Spring slunk back into my life like a stray cat making my stoop its home. It was small things at first: the sun coming out a little earlier each day, the temperature rising with it, leaves coming in one by one and then all at once on the tree in the backyard. Before I knew it, there was grass in the yard and roses sprinkled along the fence.

I don’t take enough time to notice the small things like the snail earnestly trying to crawl up the side of our gutter spout or the curling petals of the jasmine growing in a corner of the yard. The days are getting longer, but time is still going too quickly. If winter slow things down, then spring has barged in just to let my borrowed seconds slip away.

There isn’t enough hours in the day to get the dishes done and the laundry folded after a full work shift. Somewhere in there, we have to make dinner and declutter the house. Hobbies are nearly a myth, my paint set now out in the living room, but hardly being used. Work seems to tail us home, my wife curling up on one end of the couch while I begrudgingly bring over my devices to get some writing done.

There are no words for the screen. I can’t focus on the flurry of voices in the back of my mind. The stories are there, they have plots and details and passionate narrators, but my eyes are catching on a stray stream of light from the front window and the way it runs golden fingers over the wrinkled edge of a blanket.

I am here. I am writing. I am getting nothing done.

But that isn’t true.

I have a brand new series coming out on kindle vella in TWO DAYS. I’m a writer coming to grips that this little project is going to be visible to all sorts of readers in a matter of hours. It might flop. It might be everything I’m hoping. Most of the time, I think it’s easier to live with fantasies instead of pushing forward to reality.

I’ve been working hard and I am much better at plugging away at projects than having them seen and admired or rejected. This is the curse of a writer. Someone who sees the world and wants to tell their version of it has to face the fact that the rest of the world will have access to their thoughts and opinions and silly romance stories.

So, May has been a month of highs and lows, but June is right around the corner.

It’s time for rainbows and summer treats and late night conversations with the person I love most tucked into bed beside me. When I started writing for this little blog a year ago, I wasn’t sure who my online persona was going to be. I didn’t plan ahead or really have any clue what I was doing. I wrote stories and passively received compliments, happy to do the bare minimum as a person who calls themselves a writer.

This June is different.

I’m more and more prepared to by myself when I write these blogs to the great maw of online criticism. So, for those new here or who haven’t met me beyond the characters I obsess over, my name is Angelica Reece. I am a proudly married woman madly in love with her best friend who happens to share the same gender. I’m preparing to share books and music by other queer creators here and on my Instagram and just be obnoxiously LOUD about the way I deserve to live and love in a world that is increasingly dangerous for people like me.

If that’s something you’re interested in, please follow along. I’m sure we’re going to make it a June to remember. ❤