The Other
Side
A Series of Cliches #1
By
Harlow Paige
Genre: Romance
Release Date: March 21, 2016
Cover Image by Perrywinkle Photography
True or
False:
From the outside
looking in, you can be more objective to someone's situation.
False!
People only see
what you have, thinking your life and marriage are sheer perfection based on
your tax bracket. If only they could step inside long enough to see how cracked
the foundation truly is.
True or
False:
The grass isn't
always greener on the other side.
False!
I firmly believe
the only people who speak this nonsense are the ones living a life of
contentment. They use this cliche to persuade you from searching for more out
of life.
True or
False:
If momma ain't
happy, nobody's happy.
True!
This momma hasn't
been happy for a long time, and I plan on changing that.
The grass may not
be greener on the other side, but if I'm the one mowing the lawn, who the hell
cares?!
Prologue
MY HUSBAND REFERS
to the internet as the devil. He trusts nothing that takes place on the screens
I’m constantly working from. It’s easy to sit back and judge something you
haven’t allowed yourself to explore. I finally broke him out of his no-internet
accessing flip phone, and he has now come to the dark side.
Where I’m engrossed
in social media and keeping up with my readers and fellow authors, he’s now
consumed by stupid, childish games that make absolutely no sense to me. Who’s
the hypocrite now? Well, both of us. But at least it keeps him out of my hair…a
little.
He likes to
complain and assume the worst on my end, throwing out the fact that he’s kept
in the dark and has no clue who I interact with. This is true. I do keep him
out of my author world bubble. It’s mine. I don’t want to share it with him. If
I allow him to get close enough, I know he’ll pop it. And I’m not ready to fall
back into reality. He doesn’t get my “job” and doesn’t even see it as
one—although he doesn’t complain when my “job” buys him stuff.
Funny how that
works.
The internet is my
office. And a very, very distracting one at times. But it’s a necessity. I
wouldn’t be known without it. He doesn’t get that. He has no clue how much work
goes into this passion of mine that has turned into a career. The truth of the
matter is, he doesn’t support me. So therefore, his mind isn’t open to
everything that goes hand in hand with me being an author. All he sees is me on
my laptop or phone, and he instantly thinks I’m chatting with people—guys—I
shouldn’t be.
And maybe I
do.
And maybe I
shouldn’t.
I’m unhappy. I’ve
been this way for a couple years now—since I started writing my books to be
more precise. I didn’t wake up one day and tell myself, “Self, I want to be an
author.” I woke up one day realizing I needed more in my life. Not that being a
stay at home mother and wife isn’t satisfying, but it definitely wasn’t
quenching my thirst once I delved into my new life as an author. Something was
missing, and I was on a mission to find it. That’s when I discovered writing
and that I could write out whatever I wanted and toss it into the black-hole
known as the internet and if someone read it, cool.
It felt amazing
letting out anything and everything I had on my mind without any expectations
in return. Slowly, I started gaining readers. It was scary and exciting. There
were people who actually wanted to read what I had to say. Why? I didn’t
understand it, and I still don’t. But as they started conversing with me, one
by one, I realized I wasn’t alone in the grand scheme of life. And that felt
good. I felt like my purpose had been found. And I planned on embracing it no
matter who had my back, which my husband didn’t. But his unsupportiveness
hasn’t detoured me from continuing my writing journey. It’s not a choice. It’s
my destiny, my future. The passion burns throughout me and I can’t extinguish
it even if I wanted to. And yes, there have been times I wished I could shut
the ideas out. It completes me and gives me a sense of purpose. When a reader
tells me that my story moved them, helped them, made them laugh or they related
even a tiny bit to something I wrote—it changes you.
And that’s exactly
what happened to me.
I’ve changed.
And dammit, I like
who I’m becoming.
I want to embrace
this revolution rising within me. I want to spread my wings, and expand my
horizons, and see where the possibilities of it can one day lead.
But I can’t.
Because I’m stuck.
Being a prisoner to
a life of contentment, knowing that I settled and wishing I knew then what I
know now is so disheartening. I’m married to someone I’ve wanted by my side
from the get go, but who loosened his hold on my hand, allowing us to grow apart.
Now that he sees me pulling away, knowing I’m unhappy, he’s grasping for my
fingertips, trying desperately to slip his fingers between mine and pull me
back to him.
But it’s too late.
My fingertips are now curled, forming fists, and leaving nail imprints in my
skin. Him refusing to take the journey with me not only hardened my stance
against him, but also my heart.
I can’t change it.
I can’t change the way I feel. I can’t go back to two years ago when I picked
up the first book I ever had the urge to read, and warn myself of what would
take place once I closed that story with a new outlook on life. And if I could,
I’m not sure I’d want to.
I knew it the first
time he came over to my apartment and we ended up sleeping together, that I was
settling. I was compromising who I was, and who I wanted to be—even though I
wasn’t sure of who that was at that time.
The ironic part of
it all is my settling led to my passion. But now I’m in a predicament. Do I
stay with the man who loves me, but doesn’t know how to fully support me? Or do
I skip bail and find what brings me joy? I have kids to take care of. I have to
be smart instead of jumping on a whim and praying for a safe landing.
Waiting it out
shouldn’t be hard, right?
I’m sure most will
say I’m being a horrible wife, and that I shouldn’t have put myself in this
situation to begin with. To an extent, I agree. I know all I’m doing now is
flirting with disaster.
I can’t help it…or
stop it.
It could be the
fucking author in me reading into a web of lies my mind is forming, writing my
own personal whacked out fairytale.
I know people say
the grass isn’t always greener on the other side, but something inside me makes
me want to test that theory.
Harlow Paige is a
known author using a pen to shield her identity (and others) as she writes
about her adventures and many, many mishaps in the world of online dating. Her
Series of Cliches is bound to resonate within any woman who has jumped back
into the dating saddle. No worries if single-hood doesn't apply to you. This
series will be full of real life honesty, as Harlow twists her life experiences
with a bit of fiction to keep the reader guessing. Everyone who joins in on
this adventure will be able to relate in some form, and if not, will still be
rooting her on along the way.
Harlow asks that
all willing participants please keep their hands, feet and legs inside the ride
at all times. Your safety... and ENJOYMENT is her number one goal.
Hold on
tight---you're in for one helluva ride!
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