Author: Rachel E. Bledsoe

I Don’t Have A Choice

It’s time to come home. It’s time to do what these hands were made to do. It’s time to make choices. It’s time to face all the fear. I’ve ran enough, as far as these legs are willing to take me. Turn and face the monsters, the facts, and the truth. It’s time to come home, the one buried deep…

Golden Boy: A Short Story

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.   A teenage boy fell in love with a teenage girl. They were married, and would soon welcome their…

Therapist Lady, Libel, And Laughter

The decision had to be made. I got a therapist lady. Y’all don’t have to worry about me as much now. I thought some y’all were starting to worry because my husband cheated on me AGAIN, and this time I had to leave him. I moved in with my mom. I had to carry most of my clothes, make-up, and…

When He Loves Her More Than You

When he loves her more than you… He protects her in a way he would’ve never protected you. Guards her name and shields her psyche from the pain you’re forced to feel every moment, whether you’re asleep or awake. No matter the time of day or night, you’re in excruciating pain. He won’t allow her to feel THAT pain, to…

The Breaking News

Unexpected. My body and heart has been hit by a truckload of red hard bricks. This place is quiet. Too quiet for my noisy mind. The thoughts running rapidly, repeatedly. The coffee tastes sweet yet bitter. Life is bitter and sweet. Love is bitter, and surprisingly rarely sweet. The television is on and the talking heads are assessing the constant…

Cotton Candy, Funnel Cakes, And Kismet

There is a refusal inside of me to burden you with the world tonight. There are enough words being shouted about the day and age we’re suddenly forced to live in. Instead, I will burden you with my tiny glimmer of hope. Dammit, it’s not been stripped of me yet. I won’t let any man seize the days my heart…

I’m Your Snowflake

Give me something. Give me hope. Give me remembrance. There is still a sanctuary in the madness. Covert and underlying love is still breathing fire. Mass moments boiling over and water is hissing on the stove. We are in movement. People breach the banks of our new social normal. They splatter in unison against the shore. Together. Stronger. Together. Determined.…

Dear Children: Here’s Why I Cared| Misfit Style

Yesterday I received a welcomed comment on my Facebook page about my page not being lighthearted anymore. It got me to thinking; I decided the lady was right. I’ve lost my sense of humor. You’re free to argue if I ever had a sense of humor in the first place. I’ve received messages about my humor before. It isn’t for everyone. That’s your fair…

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