Heated thoughts

The heat of the afternoon smothers her in an uncomfortable embrace. She’s desperate for escape but there is none.

She’s at her desk. Her work is open and politely asking for attention, but unrelated thoughts meddle with her focus.

If three’s a crowd, her brain is home to a multitude. She can almost feel them jostling, shoulder to shoulder, trying to push in front of each other, competing for prominence.

There are those beautiful people who she’s refusing to let go of. People who took her into their collective arms and provided her with a makeshift home and family at a time when she was surrounded only by the rubble of her past mistakes, ugly destruction. They made her sing. Their life and energy worked her stiff muscles, making it easier to move, to move on, to walk away. She misses them and wants them around her so that she can feel at peace again.

There is one who is experiencing that unimaginable pain of having to walk away from something that meant everything. She sees the invisible cuts, the eyes that pretend to focus while hiding wells of hurt, she hears the voice that rings out sweet and strong but knows it is on the verge of breaking, heavy with tears. She recognizes the symptoms of heartbreak and aches to ease the constant throbbing pain.   Continue reading “Heated thoughts”

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La mer

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The sea has always frightened me. Its strength, sheer magnitude, its many faces. Small waves could make me stumble while larger ones would wash over me gently. One moment the water would rage and storm despite clear skies; the next, it would look like a limpid pool, begging to hold you in its arms, promising to keep you safe while you float, staring at the clouds. I used to think of it as a huge half-sleeping animal, temperamental at best, threatening and beautiful at the same time.

 

When I was a child I never ventured far, preferring to paddle around in the shallows. I would try for hours to catch the foam in my cupped hands but be disappointed with a thin film of sand instead. Nevertheless I kept trying. Kids don’t disappoint easy. Besides, half the allure of the creamy white foam was that it could never belong to you. It just slipped through your fingers time and time again, and the lingering bubbles on your fingers beckoned you to try harder.

 

As I grew older I went further out but not by much. My toes would dig into the sand and the muscles in my thighs would flex, aching as I strode out against the current, deeper into the water. Still, something made me hang back, at a respectful distance, cautious of the ever rising waves. Continue reading “La mer”

Carols, friends and moving on

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I’m having fun again. Haha. Finally! The thrill of it made me want to giggle madly as I walked to work today, listening to Christmas carols for the first time for the year. I avoid local radio in any case, but I make an even more pronounced effort during November and December because hearing those godawful popped-up carols-on-acid never fail to kill my Christmas buzz. So it’s always special when I put on my standard Christmas CD – Carols sung by the Choir of King’s College Cambridge – and drink in those first strains of divine choral music. ‘Ding Dong Merrily On High’ and it made me literally shudder with delight, happy to be alive and in this moment. That feeling was accompanied by another – a sensation of being slightly shocked to be feeling this way and after such a long time.

 

As I walked on towards work, trying vainly to stifle my grin, I thought about the people I’ve been meeting lately. Happy people, full of energy, refusing to be dragged down by all the stuff they’ve got going on. I love people like that. They inspire me, and make me even more eager to get rid of my blues. And though it’s only been a few days, I feel like I’ve made more progress than I’ve made in the past few months. These people may or may not know who they are but for what it’s worth, I just wanted to send a big THANKS out into the void. Continue reading “Carols, friends and moving on”

What a difference a day made.

 

Funny how it can all change from one moment to the next.

 

I still can’t believe how happy I was… then. There’s a line now. A big fat line that divides everything into ‘before’ and ‘after’, ‘then’ and ‘now’. A line that spells disaster and taunts you with its blurriness. You wonder if that moment that you’ve picked out was actually the moment. Or whether it had been coming all along and you had been so deliriously happy that hadn’t wanted to see it there. Strange how happiness can blind you, set you up to fall. How cruel is that?

 

And now after all the deliberations, after all the pushing and pulling and running away and running back only to run away again, it’s over. Just one, ugly word: over. And there’s no one there to lash out at when all the rage boiling under the surface finally spills over and burns. No one to cry to when you feel so devastated you can’t breathe. No one to hear the words that keep throbbing behind your eyes, stinging tears out of them. “I miss you”. Continue reading “What a difference a day made.”