Hello guys and happy Wednesday! I don’t know what day we are on in quarantine, but guess what? We are still here and that’s all that matters.
For today’s blog post I wanted to share a flash fiction piece I wrote recently for an assignment. It’s called “Journaling in Jamaica” and it’s about this woman journaling about finding her happiness in Jamaica by leaving her husband.
I have noticed that most of my stories when I write about love always includes a relationship breaking up. It’s funny to me in a way. I have tried to write love stories but I can never bring myself to produce it. Personally, I have never witnessed a functional, healthy relationship and that scares me. Because a part of me feels like if I’ve never seen romantic love how can I write about it, even more importantly, how can I experience it for myself? But that’s off topic from “Journaling in Jamaica”. I will just stop ranting now. I hope you all enjoy the story and please leave any suggestions below!
Journaling in Jamaica
Of course, I never believed traveling to Jamaica was going to save our marriage, but it was the last play we had left. Our last straw left to draw. I may have never believed it, but the thought did cross my mind. At times I wonder to myself: Where did we go wrong? What was the day you fell out of love with me? That is the question I desire to ask my husband. Of course, I would have to ask myself the same question.
It has been two days since we landed in Montego Bay, and so far, I figure this has to be the most animated city in the world. I’m surrounded by happy black people dancing, smiling, and singing. Just living their life with no worries it seems. Have they not face hardships? Of course, they have, everyone has to face hardships in their life. They just seem to not let their hardships affect their life and ruined their happiness, unlike me.
I have found peace at the beach that flows outside our resort. The beach has palm trees with coconuts sprouting from the branches. Which provides me shade as I journal under the Jamaican sun. Along with sand as shy as silver that warms my submerged toes. In the center of the beach is a vibrant self-made dance floor. The natives are dancing to reggae music. It’s such a majestic view as if there are dancing with their souls leading. The blue, clear ocean covers the equator of the earth. It expands so wide, I feel like if I were to swim in it I would get lost at sea where no one can find me.
A lively woman, who balanced fruit on her head, walked up to me yesterday while I was journaling on the beach. She told me in her thick Jamaican accent, “Dawta, look yah pipe up. There no problems in Jamaica.” She handed me a branch of lychee from her assortment and twirled away. I started to smile, I did. I felt the grin rise on my face, and then I saw my no-good husband up to no good conversing with a woman bartender. Under the large straw hut where a black wooden island stands stacked with alcohol to serve anyone’s desires and pleasures. I saw the grin on his face as he studied her, planning his next move. I saw her cheeks blush as she analyzes him. She ignores the gold wedding ring on his finger which signifies that he is unavailable. But he ignores the commitment and vows he made to me when he slides his hand over her face. I decided that’s my cue. So I walk towards my husband and said, “Husband, there you are! I’ve haven’t seen you all day. You were already gone when I woke this morning. Seems like you made a friend.”
The man’s face looked like he had seen a ghost. I could tell he didn’t expect me to be there; nevertheless, catch him in the act of him flirting with another woman. He said, “Hi wife, I woke early to hit a run on a beach, and uh where I met her. This is…” His words trailed off when he realizes he never even got the bartender name. That was so funny to me. He is willing to risk our marriage over someone that he couldn’t even bother to ask what her name was. It dawns on me at that moment that this man who I named my husband, did not deserve to be the draining source of my happiness. I decided that I was no longer going to allow his actions to dictate my joy. So, I said to him, “Save that thought husband. I’m going to go dance. You have fun with the bartender.” I winked to him and made my way to the dance floor. I reached the vibrant area where the natives are dancing and singing. I joined them by moving my hips to every beat, and feeling the rhythm with my feet. I let my soul guide me to a life filled with happiness.
Quote of the week
” If I don’t define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive. ”
– Audre Lorde
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Audre Lorde was a writer, civil rights activist, feminist, and a lesbian. In her writing she spoke on the oppression of race, gender, and sexuality.
Stephyne! I love this piece so much; thank you for sharing it. And I definitely feel like she is a writer journaling (it reads like the intimacy of a journal, and she has such eloquent words). This is totally place-inspired, and I gathered an understanding of the land through your words (thumbs up). And I love the description and meaning. I love how the protagonist—who wondered how the locals could be so carefree—decides to let go of a significant stress that she can not control (I loved, loved, loved the ending). I could definitely get an understanding of her as a person and also an understanding of her and her husband’s relationship. She is a likable character (unlike him). Also, I love your intro for this blog post (thank you) and your quote for the week. Thank you, and I love your writing a lot. (: