The Land of Fiction

As salaam alaikum,

Auggghh, times like these, I regret that so much of my livelihood in this world relies on other people's physical and emotional presence. I knew it once as a kid and I've always known it...things would be better off if I didn't need anyone. So in times like this, when I'm sitting in an empty apartment, packing my stuff, wondering what to do next, my mind doesn't wander to the ex who was unsatisfied with me and gladly left without looking back even though I bent myself over backwards to make sure he was comfortable and the friend who I've spent hours over the past year and change trying to help understand her own disaster-waiting-to-happen "friendship" just to be ditched the last week we had together so she can reflect about what it means to be without him now.

Exhale.

Now, I'm just waiting for when I know my mother is going to be available and I will try not to think about her mortality while I do so! She's all I've got.

God can everything, but God will not many times. I submit myself to God, but God will not be the physical agent of my needs. He places people in our lives as one of His choice agents for fulfilling needs that we have in our present state. He can say be and it is, but when something isn't, you don't really ever know why except that He will not. He doesn't will it.

So, what do I do in the meantime? Ooh, that reminds me, I'm doing my last loads of laundry in my apartment... I pack, I jam to my own music, I sing by myself...and I lie here (the bed is my last piece of furniture, not leaning against the wall so the most comfortable position is to lie down, hehe) and travel to my fiction world(s)...

In the land of fiction, I have control. I know what's going to happen in the lives of all of my characters, and the only surprises are my changes of heart. There are always so many stories to live, to write, to create... It gives me something to do instead of grow anxious as I wait for the course of my life to materialize, because I know it's in God's hands and I'm actively doing all I think I can to change my situation. I've gone years and months wondering if I'll marry, and months and years without having any clue, any inkling, any hint, despite praying. It's either something I won't have or something I won't know. I don't know.

But I know exactly what's going to happen to Lena Reynolds in "Brand New Shoes" (see my last entry). Lena is good to her word, and so is Stanley about keeping their relationship professional. Lena has no illusions of any future between them, as she loves the firm and hopes to stay on after she's done with her internship. Stanley, however he tries to temper it, is still in love with her. At the end of the story, though, Lena is introduced to Charles (I think that's his name) Murré, the grandson of the woman who babysits Lena's daughter, Antonia, while Lena is at work.

"Brand New Shoes" was going to be part of a series. In the second part, Lena and Charles get married. She has since completed her internship and continues to work at the firm. In the third part, Lena is pregnant with her third child, her second with Charles.

What happens to Stanley? I haven't decided yet. I know that in part two, he's still single...can't decide what will happen in part three...

And as I was thinking about that and typing it all, my apartment disappeared, and so did time. It didn't matter that I'm alone in an echoing, empty apartment. I was there, imaging that I was looking into the lives of Stanley and Lena, Lena and Charles, Antonia and Rachel (Lena and Stanley's daughters, respectively). I saw Lena as she talked about her wedding preparations as she left for lunch with colleagues while exchanging a knowing but brief glance with Stanley as they crossed each others' paths in the building. I see Stanley hesitate as his phone rings, knowing that it's the woman he went out last night that he's not that into, but that he knew all along was more into him. I see Lena balancing her three-year-old daughter on her hip as she realizes she's got something burning on the stove, and hands the girl over to 16-year-old Antonia so she can attend to the stove. I see Stanley confiding in someone like he's never been able to confide in someone before, perhaps his future...?

Ahh, my former roommate just stopped in. Human contact at last! Well, time to be moderately productive and pack some more...