Writing Notepad

This poem, Unconditional Love and Support – Message from your Angel uses the words and inspiration (in italics) from the inspirational author of The Blessings Book, Lizzi Vandorpe. I hope you like it as much as many people I have shared it with do. The words from Lizzi are just so fitting for the messages she portrays in her work in teaching us to “count our Blessings”, as much as my work “appreciating the angels in our life and realizing we are all angels to each other”

These wize words of comfort are a celebration of human angels and to remind us that we ARE ALL at some point in our lives, an angel to someone out there.

An Angel-friend once shared with me, not so long ago
That’s life’s events we go through, are there, so we can grow

Her wisdom, so refreshing, like a shining ray of light
When I look back, upon her words, I realize she was right

When I was full of questions, seeking answers I didn’t know
She said “you can’t push the river, my lovely… please… just let it flow”

“As it is, is as it should be” and “all negativity can be reversed”
She said, “follow your instinct, Live your life and not rehearse”

One day when I was feeling low, my head all of a muddle
She said “Faith is a huge big ask, when life feels an uphill struggle”

Let neither fear of doubt, overshadow. Your sense of calm and trust”
Be Yourself, its all your have” please in my words have trust

One morning she said ..”Do one thing today, and that’s start loving you”
“Onwards! Upwards! Draw a line under it” move forward, it’s what you must do

“We are all God’s children, to him you are perfect the way you are”
“Stand porter at the door of thought” and “God’s love will take you far”

She said “We are all beautiful spirits, we are all born from love”
“God is great, the universe divine” have faith in God above

Your “past is a place of reference, not a place of residence” you know
What other purpose is there in life? None other than to grow”

Allow yourself to refresh yourself, as you were born to be”
“Your life is full of blessings, and your spirit whole and free”

“The intention is out there, the outcome already decided”
So keep that grain of faith”my dear, for God, he has provided

“Allow the universe to nourish you”, you deserve to allow yourself this
“Just be you” “You are good enough this is fact, not a myth

“Nothing is insurmountable without understanding and love” she said
So reprogram your mind with these words, let them absorb into your head

“Have faith that the universe puts you exactly where you are meant to be”
“Have faith in the universe, have faith and you will see
Every door will open when it needs to: to show you the way
But be content in being you, and take it day by day

And over time with love, and unconditional support, I allowed this Angel in
She showed me the way to love myself and grow from deep within
I trusted her and loved her being, she was one amazing soul
For whispering all these wise words, she made my spirit whole

We only have to really look, at those within our life
to see our human angels, maybe our husband, freind or wife
For through their words they teach us things, and help our souls to grow
And – if they are your guardian angel, why! You may never know!

The words and phrases used in this poem are taken from Lizzi Vandopre who expalins these as her fathers words. These words and many many more inspiring words like this are soon to be a book by Lizzi later this year.

Short Story – 59 Minutes

Ann’s house was a slightly extended three bedroom semi detached house in the heart of a pretty country village. The village hadn’t changed much since she moved there 34 years ago. When Ann, her husband and first child moved there the semi was only 6 years old, they were the second occupants. 

 The baby blue colored bathroom suite and linoleum floor was still the “in thing” and the Formica kitchen worktops enviable.

 They didn’t look for a house in that village. They had got on the wrong bus.  They were due to view a house three villages away.  They didn’t know it was the wrong way until almost at the destination and surrounded by open countryside there was no point disembarking. On arrival in, what seemed like the middle of nowhere, t Ann and Jim took a wonder . By chance coming across a “For Sale” sign.  7 months later they borrowed to the hilt to afford the mortgage on the purchase price of twelve thousand pounds.

 It was however, their dream home. Away from the smoke of the city and towns, this village, with its excellent village school, was the perfect place to raise a family.

 It was ironic that only after the children had flown the nest could they afford the extension that they ideally had required 15 years earlier. Still, with old age came the new millennium and with that an extension providing white bathroom suites downstairs and granite worktops and slate flooring.

 **************************

 Ann bustled back in the kitchen to turn of the tap she had left running whilst filling the bowl for the washing up. She had made soup for lunch with fresh bread and her three grandchildren had polished the lot having not just seconds but third helpings. They cleaned their bowls with the crusty farmhouse loaf that had also been demolished.

 “See Nana” Ben explained mopping up the last of his soup “No need to wash up, my plates as clean as a whistle and so is Grandads!”

 Ben was seven, a twin and mischievous. Harris was shy and quite to opposite. They were identical until about 4 but as they grew into their faces they changed.

 Ben looked like his Dad where as Harris and Bella looked like their Mum.

 Granddad Jim obligingly showed his empty bowl to Ann. “Clean as a whistle” he laughed. Ben, Harris and Bella all laughed and held up their empty bowls, keen to drive the point home.

 With laughter and banter they helped clear the plates to the kitchen. Afterwards the children went into the front room to watch TV.  Jim announced to all that it was “Granddads nap time”.  Jim went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water from the filtered jug and kissed Ann on the cheek. “Soup went down a treat my love, you never fail to make a delicious broth” Ann basked in his praise and patted him tummy teasingly “but three bowls Jim, you know that’s against the doctor’s orders”

 Jim was 76, he had had heart bypass a few years earlier, after several bad turns with his heart, he was now fitted with a new pacemaker, which was at least taking away the grey ashen appearance he had taken on and given him a new lease of life.

 “I’m off for my nap now love” he said swallowing down a concoction of prescribed medication. “Don’t let the boys get to boisterous, it’s a nice day, send them over the playing fields”

 “Will do” Ann replied as Jim left the room, closing the door behind him.

 Lost in her thoughts as she robotically washed and dried the bowls and spoons, Ann admired the stunning array of daffs and tulips in the rear garden, and contemplated in her mind’s eye what other spring flowers would soon be in bloom by the unexpected good weather they were having.

 Ann glanced at the clock. It was a new digital one with just numbers, no face. Jim didn’t like it, but Ann found it easier on the eye. It read 13.10.

 Ann was pleased; there was time to perhaps finish her new Danielle Steel novel before she need think about getting started on the dinner. 

The kitchen door burst open and in flew Harris. “Nan. Nan, come quick, there’s smoke coming out of the telly”

 Ann carefully wiped the suds from the draining board and squeezed the spongy out before placing it in the bleached water in the drainer.

 “Nan, come now” Harris tugged her arm and Ann scurried into the lounge.

 Sure enough, black smoke was coming from the grill at the back of the Television set.

 Ann froze for a moment. “Think Ann, think” she said to herself. “Water, no it’s electric. Unplug” Ann went to reach behind the wooden unit the television was placed on to reach the plug, but a popping noise and a flash of flame shot from the back as she reached down.  Ann jumped back alarmed.

 “Get out of here” she yelled to the three children, their small eyes round with horror as they watched more flames shoot from the set.

 It was no good, Ann could not reach the plug, not without moving the unit out, and she was never strong enough. With a crackle, more flames shot from the set and the smoke grew thick and more toxic to smell. Ann turned; the three children were sat frozen on the sofa, their hands covering their mouths, they eyes locked on the scene before them.

 “Come on you three, get out of here now” She hurriedly escorted them out of the lounge shutting the door behind her, ushering the three grandchildren into the hall way as she reached to open the front door. Come on Ben, Harris,  I said come on, stop faffing about with your bloody shoes and get out here now”.

  Harris hopped out still trying to get a trainer on the other foot. 

 “Wheres Bella?” Ann said as she looked frantically around. 

“I’m here Nan” said Bella as she dragged her coat and shoes out of the hall.

“Wait here, Don’t move, Don’t go back in the house until I say so and do not, I repeat, do not leave this very spot” Ann ran back inside still barking instructions.

 As Ann opened the door to the lounge she felt a whoosh as the air was lapped up by the flames. Flames that had now taken a hold onto the wall paper. The curtains and the whole television were ablaze, spitting and crackling. Ann froze staring unbelievably for a moment at how fast it had caught. Whoosh, the television cracked open, flames now licked the carpet, eating hungrily at everything consumable.

 Jim. The fire brigade. Jim on a nap, flashes of thought flashing through her conscious mind. She couldn’t get through the flames now to cross the open plan staircase, the stairs were already caught, the window on the landing providing oxygen for the hungry flames.

 Ann ran in the kitchen and thumped 999 on the keypad

 “Fire Brigade” snapped Ann “Now. Quickly, my husband is trapped, the fire it’s spreading. Please. Come quickly”

 The answering staff connected Ann to the fire service

 There a fire, there was smoke, from the TV, its spreading, my husband, he is trapped I think, address yes, we are number 36…” Ann robotically gave out the address panic sweeping her face as she turned to see from the kitchen across the hallway the flames growing larger, the heat was incredible.

 “Shut the door.

Shut the door.

Shut the door.

Shut the door”

 Ann repeated the mantra as she reached for the burning handle of the longer door.

 “The firemen said close the door.

Close the door”

 she pulled it shut.

“Turn of the electric at the main.

The main.

Electric at the main.

Where was the fuse board?”

Ann stumbled frantically into the utility room and pulled open the fuse board that had each switched for each room. She starred at it, then seeing the large red button, flicked it down. It was now in the off position.

 The clock read 13.15

 In shutting that door was she shutting the lid on Jim’s coffin. Where was he? Where the bloody hell was he? 

 “Jim” she screeched out “Jim…..Jiiiimmmmm” she came out of the house shutting the door with a hollow bang.

 Another nail in the coffin.

 “Jimmmm” she yelled up at the windows. Smoke was now coming out of the landing window in huge black plumes.

 Had he shut the door to the bedroom?  He would in the back bedroom for his nap. Ann ran to the gate, it was locked, security conscious there were three bolts. She pulled frantically at them screaming out for Jim.

 The children looked frightened. Petrified. They were rooted to the spot. Bella then broke her poise and ran towards Ann as though she suddenly could take in what she was seeing. “Nanna, Granddads gone for a walk”

 “He hasn’t you stupid child, he said he was going for a nap” Still pushing and pulling the gate frantically she continued screaming “ Jiiiiiimmmm”

 Bella now crying, was pulling at Ann. “Nanna, he has, honest, he said he wanted some air, said he should walk of his lunch, I saw him go out Nanna, I did, honest, I swear”

 “He would have told me if he was going out, he always tells me when he goes out, always”

 “Ann? Ann?” A voice yelled from over the road as a woman ran out of her home “Ann, have you called the fire brigade?  Is anyone in there still?”

 Ann shouted back “Yes, they are on the way. Where are they? Where the hell are they? It’s been ages now. I think Jims in there, upstairs in the back bedroom”

 A man came running down the house to the right “What going on. Ann? Ann – where’s Jim?”

 Ann just stood frozen as she watched the scene before her eyes.

 The boys were standing motionless looking petrified. Bella was sobbing telling a neighbor Granddad had gone for a walk. Neighbours were coming out, talking to each other as they looked up at the burning house. It was happening in slow motion; one by one they came out. Pointing. No one walked to her. Ann looked up at her home and watched as the glass on the bay window blew out and the flames curled their evil tongues up the outside of the house, clinging now to the soffits, talking hold of the windowsill.

 The cat. Where was the cat?  Ann went up to the front door, fumbling for her keys in her trouser pocket. As she was putting the key in the notice lock one of her neighbours sons ran and snatched the keys from her.

 “You cant go in there, you open this you will be burnt to a cinder, the fire will reach out at you, its an inferno the other side of this door. Ann, come away”

 Bob was in his forties. Big Chap. Ex marine. “Come on Ann” he said gently now “ come away from the door, come on lovely”

 Inside the kitchen the digital clock read 13.33

 As he lead Ann down the driveway the shrill of the sirens could be heard.

 People started to move to the other side of the road to make the path clear, a collective sigh of relief across the ever growing crowd as the fire crew pulled out ladders and hoses and set to work. As the team worked to prepare, one chap went to Ann.

 “I’m Phil. You the owner love?”

 Ann nodded

 “Is anyone inside love”

 Ann nodded  “I  er , I um, think Jim, Jim my husband, may be taking a nap in the back bedroom, the cat too, she may be there…” her voice trailed.

 “Did you get the electrics off? This is important?”

 “I think so”

 One of the crew handed Phil a blanket that he wrapped round Anns shoulders. He spoke in hushed toned to the crew who looked more somber as they set the pumps to work. Phil got on the radio barking the message that someone was possibly trapped

 Another engine arrived.  The fire crew already prepped spurred into action. The hoses spraying powder through the downstairs window. The ladder now safely against the wall saw hoses pumping a foam through the upstairs window.

 As the fire extinguished billowing plumes of black toxic smoke filled the air above them, Ash and debris floated out of the windows carried away by the gusts of smoke and breeze.

 The front door was pushed open and two of the crew entered.

 Ann held her breath.

 The crowd held their breath. The crew satisfied the flames were out looked up.

 No one moved

T ime stopped.

Ann could feel her heartbeat. Slower than she thought it should be. Du Dum. Du Dum. Du Dum.

 Her palms clammy.

 Her mouth dry.

 The silence was eerie.

Movement. One of the crew beckoned Phil over, shaking his head.

 Ann cried out “Noooooooooo” and fell to her knees, curled like a baby looking up to the door.

 Phil came over

 “There’s no one in there love. The crews have looked in every room”

 Ann stood up, “Please, look again, maybe he got scared and hid in the cupboard, maybe he crawled low on the floor, I beg you, please look again” Phil nodded in the direction of the crew, and four men entered, covering their faces with masks.

 “Are you sure he was in here love?”

 “He said he was going for a nap”

 Bella who was close by asked “Was my Granddad not in the house Mr?”

 Phil shook his head. “not that we can see Missy”

 Bella looked at Ann “Nana, I told you he said he was going for a walk, I think he did Nana”

 The crew came running out, carrying something. Ann jumped up, “Have you found him?”

 “No lady” said one of the crew, “there’s no one inside, but we have the cat”

 They crouched over the cat applying the oxygen mask firmly over his head.

 Ann took in the scene before her. The smoke had subsided now. The flames had gone, in their place; soot, charred blackness, ash. The windows at the front had blown out, there was half a curtain flapping through the air. Pretty pink curtains from her bedroom.

 Four fireman fussed the cat, its limp body showing no signs of moving. A neighbor had bought out some milk for it.

 The children were now wrapped in blankets snuggled together on the front lawn. A neighbor sat by them offering comfort.

Phil came over to her.

 “Fires allout now, the crew are just dousing the hot spot now, are you OK?”

 “I just wish I knew where Jim was, but yes, I guess I am OK. Hows lucky?” Ann said looking over at the cat

 “Lucky” he replied. “One of your neighbours has offered to take him to the vets for you. He needs medical attention”

 Ann looked over to see Wendy her neighbor wrapping the cat in a blanket. Wendy looked up. Ann nodded.

 “Can I go in now?” Ann asked.

Phil looked at her seeing the anxiety in her face, her worries spread across her brow,

 “When the crew are out and we know it’s safe” Phil replied.

 Phil walked towards the house exchanging nods to the crew as they removed protective clothing and reeled in the hoses.  The groups of neighbors started to part and go back indoors. The show over now.

 Ann stood alone on the driveway looking at her home in disbelief that this was happening. She pinched the skin on her arm. She was alive. This was happening.

 Still no Jim.

 “Over this way love” Phil beckoned from the door. As Ann approached she was passed a hard hat and face mask to put on by one of the crew and as she stood at the doorway to her home Phil placed the hat on her head and assisted her with the mask.

 “The power spray is still in the air and the smoke was quite toxic, so please wear this”

 There was a point in Ann’s life when she would have argued that the hat would mess her hair and that the mask was just fuss. Now wasn’t the time.

As she stepped into the hall the smell through the mask was ghastly, toxic, heavy, she recoiled momentarily. Phil took her arm. “Are you OK, do you want to do this, maybe its to soon

Ann shook her head. Phil was hesitant as he pushed the remains of the door to the lounge aside. He walked in first. Ann followed.

The kitchen clock read 13.53

 The once neutral room was now black. The wallpaper hung down from the ceiling in charred blackened strips. It was impossible to take in a room she had taken for granted for 34 years.

 Ann looked at the focal point of the room the fireplace.

When they moved in it was a real flame fire in fake bricks, very old fashioned, they even had a huge fire guard as the children were growing up, a picture from a photo came in mind, her eldest daughter was 9, the baby was 2 and her other daughter5, they all sat watching TV with their backs to the fire to let their hair dry. It was made of brass and quite large, the towels were on the top with the shimmer of warming towels above. All in their nighties my three girls. All with long hair……….

 

Seven years ago the old fire was ripped out to make way for a gas flame effect one. The contactor got the flu dimensions wrong. We had headaches for weeks before we found out the carbon monoxide was killing us. Thank God that was spotted. The new fire though was a read focal point though and had added real warmth the room…….

 

The room was warm from the hot spot where the TV had once stood. The Tv a mass on melted plastic and wire. Ugly. Evil. The wooden unit was burnt, the encyclopedias beneath consumed by the fire. The spine of one could be seen. British encyclopedia.

 Sarah loved that book, she pored over it in her teens looking at the amazing pictures taken of the world from space. It was published in the 70’s but the pictures had inspires her to marvel at the world. She took them to bed with her when she though no one noticed, and Ann would gently take it from her as she tucked her in goodnight, putting it back on the shelf”

 

The records had melted. Old fashioned as they were, Anne and Jim had still kept them and even invested recently in a “new” record player to relive the sound.

The Planets – Holst, one the whole family adored. Her eldest playing Jupiter when she was sewing costumes into the night. Steve Reeves Magical Christmas – that came out every year. Despite iPods and CDs, the family always put the records’ on…Bing Crosby…even Borderline by Madonna, her eldest’s first ever purchase as a 12inch.

 Gone.

 The coffee table has lost its leg. Cheap piece.   The curtain rail had melted, the velvet curtains gone all but one piece the the right of the window that was half inside half outside. The ornaments in the bay window. Porcelain. In tact. Black.

 The picture of the grandchildren. The plastic frame Anne thought was wood, melted, the glass cracked the edges burnt.

 “Nana, I don’t want to wear this jumper it makes me look like a girl” howled Ben. “Mum this dress is stupid” cried Bella. The protest, the dramatics from the four grandchildren as they posed for the photo. The memory of the preparation of the photo always hid behind the perfect innocently captured smiles.

 The suite. Italian leather in a pale cream. Singed, black, a luxury of several thousand pounds. The rare moment when she and Jim agreed it was perfect and a must have.

 The nausea rose as the smell caught hold. Phil made he way too the staircase.

Ann looked up.

 Her wall paper, specially commissioned with blue birds on eucalyptus plants, that was so expensive was gone……the open brickwork black.  She followed Phil upwards keeping close to the wall, holding the rail, that for some reason had not caught.

The landing window was cracked, but not blown out. The large window had been open and was still open. The net curtains were no longer there at all. Just soot.

 The carpet was burnt. The lampshade burnt. The loft hatch that was plastic with a plastic and metal pull down ladder had collapsed inwards laying in a crumpled mass. The attic looked burnt out.

 Ann could go left or right. Left was their bedroom, right was the spare room where Jim took a nap.  As she thought her eyes caught the door of the smallest room just on the left.

 This room all her children had been after to call their own. The other two always having to share the third room. It was so small they took the door off and put ina brown concertina door to save space.  That door now was a ball of melted plastic. Never once in 34 years had it crossed her mind about the safety of that door in a fire. Maybe the thought of fire had never crossed her mind. This room was a char on emptiness. The spare bed just springs on the floor in a mesh of metal.

 

The double glazed units had melted, thought just still in tact they were warped.

 Ann slowly opened the wardrobe door. Since the children leaving home this wardrobe was her and Jims Sunday best as they called it.  Those special occasion suits and outfits, hats bowties and waist jackets.

 Metal hooks on metal rails.

 The plastic hanger element melted, the clothes burnt and fragmented on the floor.

 The nausea swept Ann. She continued to the master bedroom. Her marital bed. Half as she left it that morning, half a frame of twisted metal and ash. The duvet still strangely in tact on one half.  It was a divan and the plastic drawers had melted. The orderly stock seemingly intact. The window was out, the pink remains of part of the curtain flapped like an injured bird.

 Ann saw a box under her dressing table and picked it up. Resting it on the dressing table she took off the lid. Inside were photos, memorabilia, somehow not touched by the fire. She shut the lid and paced it on the table.

 Leaving the master bedroom Ann crossed the landing to the bathroom. It was no longer blue. She gagged at the smell. The plastic bath panel had melted, as has the bin, the tiling edging, the bottles of lotions, the carpet was black and the mirrors sooty. The plastic shower curtain a melted mass on the wall ,

 Where do you start to stop the memories. All her children, her grandchildren had taken baths in this room in the same tub.  It may be blue, but the blue held memories.

 Ann walked toward the second bedroom, the door, a hollow original 70s door was no longer there, long consumed by flames.  Inside this room was by far the worst. There was nothing untouched. She turned away and moved toward the stairs.

 Phil followed. Staring at the woman that had lost so much, but unable to reach out to her. This was his job. Just that. A job.

 Ann walked through the living room, careful not to let her eyes focus, and into the hallway.

 “May I go in here” Ann asked

 “Its almost untouched” said Phil, taking off his mask. Ann did the same.

 Ann opened the kitchen door. As Phil had indicated it was untouched.  Ann took of her helmet and mask and handed them to Phil. She walked to the kitchen sink and put her hand in the still warm soapy water. Ann looked up.

14.09

Ann took her hands out of the water and dried them on a towel.

 “You should get some air” Phil said, gently escorting her to the front door.

 As Ann walked out she saw, down the road, a figure walking toward the house. It was, she was sure, her Jim. She stared for a moment, then taking in that it was him she ran towards him, holding him tight and hugging him.

 “What’s happened her Ann?” he quizzed, “I’ve only been gone an hour”

 Ann paused from his embrace and looked in his eyes, full of love. This was no time for recriminations or accusations,.

 “You  have been gone 59 minutes” she replied. “That’s all. That’s all for our lives to have been crushed by fire, we have nothing Jim, nothing, only the clothes we are stood in ”

 “Ann. We have each other. What more do we need?”

 They hugged. They shared the most tender, knowing, supportive, true love hugs that there ever could be.

 

 

 

 

Short Story: The Acumen Touch

You know when there is a moment,  a moment that stops you right there in your tracks, where your everyday mechanisms are interrupted and time stops and your mind journeys elsewhere. One of those moments where time stands still and you recollect for the briefest of moments, where you almost can relive a life time’s experience. Where time somehow moves outside time.

When you “come to” it’s as though you have been away forever yet it’s just a moment. A day dream? An awakening? A moment where the unconscious mind takes over the conscious mind?

If the memory is all there so we can recall in such clarity at any point in time, what else is could this memory be doing elsewhere in my psyche? and why now has it chosen to reveal itself?

This morning I looked across the trees in the woodland and I felt a indescribable surge of love, it was overwhelming, my heart swelled with joy. I took in a deep breath, as though I was sucking in the love and happiness.  My eye caught the eye on the mirror.  Then. Time stopped.

Her hair was so fine, so soft the way it fell perfectly straight down her face, wispy angel hair. Her scent, so sensual. I touched her cheek and she turned to me, and there it was, that moment, the moment that has stayed trapped in time and space, teasingly lingering for years, a moment that transports me from one world to another.

I looked in her eyes and I saw the sadness, her eyes almost gazed, expressive, yearning. They say that eyes are windows to the soul. I could see straight through her physical beauty into pools of sadness. As I looked in her eyes and stroked her cheek a tear fell. I gently wiped it away with my thumb.

“I will never love again, I am sorry….” she whispered. I was close enough to feel her breath on my face as she spoke. She spoke so softly, the sadness reflecting in her eyes and fleetingly on her face. I felt hurt, I couldn’t reach her, our eyes locked for what felt like eternity, then suddenly for no reason, she threw back her head and laughed “come on lets crack on”. The moment lost. Gone. Forever.

How do you break through the pain? How do you unlock someone from something so sad? How do you get into someone’s subconscious mind?

Without notice, I am me again. I was back looking in the mirror.

Then

“I want to understand why you can’t love me? I look in your eyes and I see sadness, tell me what’s wrong, share with me so I can help”

In her head

The crushing pain is like elastic bands around my heart, like a tightening in the chest, like a blockage, constipation of the ebb and flow of all my energy. Its bone crushingly painful so painful I have to feel numb to deal with it. I don’t want to think and I don’t want to talk. I cant talk, I don’t have the words to explain how I feel. This is new territory for me, it should be exciting. I feel robbed. I feel I should be feeling excitement and have a plain piece of parchment, but my copybook is too blotched.

Please stop asking me what’s wrong, stop expecting answers from me. Stop Talking. Let me just be. Things are going just fine aren’t they? Why do you need me to tell you I love you, it means nothing, it changes nothing, and can’t we just be as we are accepting things as they are? Don’t you understand I don’t want you to be to closer to me?  I don’t want to let you in. Believe me you don’t want to get inside my head, its messy up there, there is a lot going on, its not all nice. If I can’t untangle all the wires and understand, you don’t stand a chance. Anyway, I don’t want to share, I want to leave all the knotted tangled bit of me locked away. Let’s just carry on as we are. I don’t want to pretend.

What I would  really like is for you to sit by my side and hug me. Hold me close. Let me absorb your love and your tenderness. No words are needed. I wish we could psychically communicate this, so you understand. Its not that I want to push you away, I just don’t want to let you in. Its taken an age to build a brick wall around myself. Stop trying to chip away. The more you try to get in the more I want to keep you out. Like a child, I will tell you what I want you to know in my own time.

You  really don’t want to know the real me. You wouldn’t like her.

Here and Now

I am walking in the wood, I am connecting with the trees and nature around me. I feel connected somehow to the living world around me. My heart is full of love, it wants to cry as a release.

As I sit. I connect. As I sit I absorb totally into the woodland and the foliage and feel the heartbeat of the living world around me,  and I allow my mind to empty. I want to connect with my soul group for a while. I want to allow my soul to be raw for a little while.To feel. To Love. To be loved and comforted by the universe.

The memory that popped into my mind is sitting uncomfortably now in my conscious mind and I need to reconnect to understand why.

You may call it a daydream, but at the moment in between my conscious mind seeing and feeling and just before I don’t recall,  I sense and feel my lips tingle and my mouth joining hers, I fell it like its real.

Then

Her kiss was so tender and full of love, her skin beautiful and soft. We held each other so close. For a moment I felt connected to her, our physical union feeling so special but at the moment of true engagement when we were totally physically entwined she broke the emotional contact, she drifted away.

She was physically there and connected to me,  but her mind was clearly elsewhere, her glazed eyes was full of sorrow. It was heart wrenching and disappointing.

Why couldn’t I please her? As I tried to kiss her she turned her head away and whispered that she was sorry. I said it was OK. I asked her what was wrong but she shook her head and broke away from me. I asked if it was something I had done and she turned to me and said “you are the most wonderful person in the world, but I have told you before, I can’t give you what you need, I just can’t”

In her head

Why all this pressure? How can I explain all that I feel? here is too much there to discuss. So much to say, but nothing I want to say or explain.

I want to love you back, but I don’t know how.  I don’t know how to engage with you. I don’t know how to physically let go because my mind takes over.  I cant help it.  I can’t stop it.  I can’t control it, it’s not something I consciously do.

I don’t want to feel this way. I wish I could engage with you.  I know you feel pushed away and I know I am hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you but I don’t have the words to say how I feel and I know you can’t help anyway

Why do we push love away?

 

Then

The more I ask her questions, the more she pushes me away. I hold her in my arms and see the tension fall from her shoulders. I scrape back her wispy hair and tell her it’s OK. It’s not really OK, not for me, but for her. She should enjoy this aspect of our relationship. I also feel she is shutting me out. I feel so lonely at times like this when she won’t let me in. What am I supposed to do or say. Maybe the answer is nothing. But doing nothing feels inadequate.

She snuggles into me. She rests her head on mine. This is the moment I know we are united together, this is when I know she is relaxing and being herself.

She then tells me she loves me, but that she can’t let go of the things in her past and that she is almost scared to let go. She tells me that she is frightened. I hold her closely and stroke her hair, I let her cry. I lt the words spill out not making sense.dont speak. I don’t ask questions, I just stroke her hair.

In her head

I had to say something. Now I feel  exposed. I am scared to let go. What if I get rejected? I want to run out of this room right now. I don’t want to open up. How I wish you were psychic or how I wish I could just give you a USB download of my head – let it blow you mind, deal with it and then ask questions, because I can’t tell you everything because I don’t want to relive it. I just want your hugs and your understanding

Then

Her body curled in the fetal position by my side as our bodies spooned together. The tears had made her hair wet, she seemed exhausted, I thought it best to let her sleep

In her head

I spoke my fears out loud, I didn’t share it all, just what was relevant to the here and now. I explained that I was self conscious, I explained that physical touch sometimes hits triggers that repulsed me, I explained that for no reason at all sometimes a memory would come into my mind and I couldn’t’t stop it but it changed everything about how I was feeling, I explained that the emotion felt too much and that I was scared to allow myself to feel pleasure because it was unknown territory and ultimately it was embarrassing as how I would react. I don’t trust myself. don’t want you to see me weak. If I open my heart you may break it. I am not stong ugh to deal with a broken heart.

I feel better for sharing, maybe now things will be physically easier, though I don’t know how, words don’t change anything.

Here and now

I crunch the leaves in my hand as I awaken from my awakening, my daydream, my connection. This morning I recalled how I, Sarah, was. Young and naive The gir with wispy angel hair and I realized that everything in her head in that encounter was how many women feel in their first intimate encounter with someone they love, but now I can also understand the mind of how my lover felt too. It is that point I have written from.

The memory came to me but through the eyes of my lover at the time, my soul had just spiritualy entwined with the other soul  and given me total clarity and understanding from somone elses perspective. The memory of my young self had only come to me because my soul had reconnected with the othe party from this time and made me understand. Or maybe in another time I am playing the same scenario now, but as the other person.

Perhaps to serve as a reminder that we are all different people yet we all share common feelings and experiences but we don’t often talk about them. Young women especially. Connecting with a lover for a first time is often just physical, and the emotional side of connecting comes with love, experience and understanding. To share your heart, to truly be yourself and to give and love unconditionally is a journey.