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A new month, a new dream, a promise of hope and love and happiness. When I read last month’s batch I was amazed to see just how much of it was taken up with thoughts of love and passion. My plight is evolving from one of ‘escape plan from that nice guy who is just a good friend’ to ‘how can I ever live without this man who is my soul mate’? Things seem to have moved so fast recently and my feelings have intensified unexpectedly. I hear words I have longed for all my life, they hold me spellbound.
A beautiful day when each intake of breath infuses me with the cold blue sky and sunshine that smile over my world. Gentle fingers of heaven ruffle my hair, sparkles of light catch in my eyes and I feel truly blessed to be alive and able to meld with the elements. The shackles of responsibility tug me away from this utopia to my necessary labours, but I escape whenever possible to feel the beauty sink through my skin and nourish my soul. Just let me hold his hand on a day like this and there could be nothing more perfect.
A tidying up sort of day, which included people and work and friends and a lost lover. I now feel more positive about my job and my friends and I hope my lover understands that I have now moved on but still cherish our times together. I had no real need to email him, it’s obviously been over for a while, but I felt the need for closure. Of course this is only a start and I don’t doubt that much meandering will occur before the completion of my task. I can now see a new path to eagerly follow.
I can’t believe I’ve taken such risks today and been so crazy. Even more worrying is the fact that it has left me breathless, happy and on such a high I want to do it again! I openly met him in a place that was not only public, but liable to be full of people who knew I should not be there, especially not with him. So why do it? Because I don’t want my life to be safe, boring and dull. I want excitement and thrills and passion, although I wouldn’t do this for just anybody. He is special.
Another dazzlingly beautiful day. I am so lucky to experience such wonder in things that are freely given all around me. It is a treasure to see the simple natural gifts that we often overlook in our quest for power and success. Material assets gain an ugly, necessary dominance in our worried lives, representing a status attained in life. Supposedly. Yet I have gained these badges of accomplishment and find they are cold to comfort and unyieldingly hard. Mere minutes spent with my love, holding hands in the cold winter sun, is warmer than a lifetime draped in expensive furs.
My life was getting tidy. Neat little compartments with everything duly sorted and, if not in their actual proper place, at least in a place where I could find things and deal with them accordingly. Then along comes a dervish, whirling through my carefully sorted thoughts and feelings, and scatters them like a careless burglar searching for jewels. I should just let it go, tidy up again and be sensible, but that terrifying excitement hypnotises me, exposing my dark desires. Part of me is wild and unmanageable, a part that I am frightened to lose as it keeps me alive.
The sensible, orderly, decent, typecast, goody two shoes me met the wild outrageous, shameful, rebellious, shocking me in a violent head on collision today. I was badly shaken and felt physically ill by the whole experience. The two sides of my personality mixed themselves up into a lethal acidic swirl, emerging scarred and injured with neither side finding the sought after victory. At my age the fanatical extremist in me should have long since died, but finding it still alive and very much kicking, I revel in feeding it the stimulation and asphyxiating exhilaration it desires. Life is for living.
I already know I have capitulated. There are still some formalities and pretences to be observed, but in my head and in my heart, the battle is lost. I loathe my lack of strength and self-discipline, trying to assuage my guilt with clichés and hackneyed excuses that only serve to dig me deeper into my shameful pit of quicksand. I am overwhelmed that so much attention appears to be directed at me and my vanity wallows heedlessly in its slimy coating. I doubt I shall ever be clean again even though I genuinely care with my stolen kisses and caresses.
Not sufficiently satisfied with a duplicitous treachery, I now add an extra dimension to my disloyalty. Despite the screams in my head and the fear in my heart I embark on a road to certain unhappiness and misery and yet I’m not quite sure why I’m doing it. Perhaps it is the fear that I don’t want to miss anything, that my age is against me and I should seize every opportunity that comes my way, no matter how inappropriate or foolish. Maybe it is pure vanity and a need to be caressed and loved. Still, it keeps me alive.
Some days I feel I have so much love to give that I want to show compassion and tenderness to a whole city of people. If love makes the world go round, why are we expected to only care for one person our whole life? Is it impossible to bring happiness to more than one person? Maybe jealousy gets in the way, or selfishness or some ancient church vow. But surely if the intention is good and pure and honest then the ensuing acts of warmth are to be smiled upon? I hope so. I wish I could create happiness.
Today I was with dinosaurs. They are not extinct and have barely crawled from the evolutionary swamp, as the slime drips poisonously from their forked tongues. I realised how much I crave a gentle eloquent soul who soothes me with kind words and loving caresses. I need to look into his eyes and be able to see deep into his heart – a heart that is crammed full of good intentions and a need to protect me. I am absurdly lucky and cherish each wonderful moment. There is a hollow place between me and the dinosaurs. I will not go there.
Do something every day that scares you. I saw that somewhere and keep feeling that I am doing just that. Some days I am terrified by the things I do and yet still forge ahead and do them, despite the alarm bells clamouring in my head. I wonder why I don’t say no and realise it’s because I actually enjoy it. The fear is almost a necessary precursor to the resultant bliss that follows my misdeeds and I crave it like a drug. Drugs can kill you though. My timeline is decreasing rapidly as I become more careless and daring.
Yet another ingredient in the melting pot of my life, which subtly alters the flavour of my mood and emotions. There is so much love and tenderness that I never want this to end, despite the fact that it is crazy, unconventional and highly likely to end in swathes of tears and depression. I know people would think I am flighty and cheap if they knew, but it’s really not like that. I care desperately and want only happiness and love for the men in my life, even at the expense of my own needs. Please just let them smile.
Valentine’s Day – for love? I think that my idea of love has warped over the years and, without a doubt, become more cautious and cynical. But at base level I still have that deep affection and tenderness and compassion which melts my soul and is what I call love. It has been a day of guilt, joy, pathos, laughter and simple enjoyment. Somewhere along my road to affluence I lost something important which I doubt can be regained in my marriage. However, I kindle the embers with a new soul mate and feel the ecstasy of shared contentment and understanding.
All my security doors, padlocks, chains and intricate defence structures that I have painstakingly put in place throughout my life are gradually being opened. Not forced or violated, but gently and slowly untangled, quietly moved aside. It is quite terrifying to reveal myself like this and the trust I put in his hand is a living breathing part of me. Without it I am gasping for air and now entrust him to keep me alive by his care of my spirit. However I also have a part of him in return which I cradle with fear and compassion. Help me.
Your words changed my path that day. I was already en route to you when the barrier crashed down and threw doubt in my way. I detoured to an alternative, less fascinating road and now find that my journey has to use both trails alternately. I constantly search for the long safe course to my destination, but the fog of doubt swirls around me as I stumble myopically to each visible patch of sunlight and stars. I wish I had known then how frightened you were. I wonder if I shall ever tell you now how much I love you.
Perception is everything. The way we each perceive the world and one another colours our judgement and informs our actions and yet it still astounds me how polarised we are in our awareness of others and their feelings. The things he said to me confirm that he is exactly as I thought and is almost transparent when it comes to my ability to read him. Me, however, that seems to be a different story. He sees me in a completely different way to the way I see myself and is truly astounded to discover my unhappiness beneath my perpetual smile.
One life. One chance. Despite the guilt and the fear I have no way of staying behind the door any more. My heart is revved to screaming point with adrenaline and I have to remember how to breathe; yet I push my shaking limbs forward and step through to my alternate reality. Once there I am gladly enchanted within the stars and sparkle of a new magical world. But the addiction grows ever more enticing until I find my heart and soul have everlastingly transmuted into a new configuration. We should all try for the moon in our comfortable lives.
Paradise is not an earthly place – it exists solely within each of us. If we can be made to feel wonderful by a person or an event, even an ignition of our senses, then that time instantly takes on an ecstatic hue. Rose coloured for some, although I usually imagine mine as purple or blue – passionate and electric. In my memory of my rapture I can recall touch and smell in exquisite detail, transporting myself effortlessly to wild escalations of happiness. My gratitude is endless that I should have experienced paradise – the journey was frightening, but I made myself brave.
If it wasn’t difficult enough before, it’s now even trickier. I think I’m falling in love (yes again!) I want to be sensible, but it’s boring and shrivels my will to live. I don’t understand how I can be in love with two people though and care for them both so much. One would die for me and treats me like a beautiful fragile princess. The other is more of a mystery and I love him for his eloquence and his desperate need for security. He probably doesn’t love me and yet I adore him readily. A triangle of despair.
Robbery. A violation committed by uncaring antisocial slugs who deserve to be eradicated by foul and distressing methods. Maybe they would understand in the second before their demise how their victims felt. I was angry and shaken but refuse to be cowed by them. I can hold my head high, not because I have material belongings, but instead that I have compassion and humanity. Despite my many faults I genuinely care for people and treat them with kindness and respect. Abuse of private property is abhorrent to me and in my book that puts me way above the gangland vermin.
There is a poem which implores that the writer should ‘die a young man’s death’ and yet when a young man dies such a death there is no pride or joy for an abhorrence of nature which leaves us all choked with a lifetime’s grief. The injustice and pain scratch their claws in our hearts, the scars of which will never fully heal. Death should not visit the young; he is not welcomed at their door but is skilled in the art of surprise and stealth. Shock and awe are his military tactics – a trained killing machine who is unstoppable.
This was the most wonderful time of my life. Not the smiles, not the sex, not the fun, but the look in his eyes when he held me tenderly and stroked my hair. Enveloped in the magical half-light we exchanged enchanted breaths and let our eyes silently tell each other the secrets in our souls. Something irretrievable passed between us in those trembling moments and has caused a perpetual tremor in my heart. I seek no cure but instead kneel at the shrine of love in everlasting gratitude. Nothing shall ever be so treasured as that look and that touch.
Deceit and lies have become my trademark. How easily I thread the strands of my web into a complex weave of falsehoods, never realising how tightly they are binding me to grief and terror. Addiction is my catalyst as the dread is always soothed by love and caresses, like heroin in my veins. One life. One chance. Seize the moment. I believe this and pack the precious memories in my heart to take out and gaze at misty eyed at some point in the future. Actions have consequences and I await the inevitable payback with dread and horror. Save me.
My brief sojourn into life and love ended violently today. The truth scorched us both and left me blistered and scarred from the violent exposure to such unexpected candour. I wanted to leave and begin a new life as a whole person, not just someone’s daughter, wife or mother. But the terror is so great that I chose to enter death row voluntarily. As I felt my life step through the prison bars I turned for one last look at the joy I had so briefly felt and wept at the death sentence I have chosen. This is the end.
Tears for what might have been flooded my day and drowned my hopes of happiness. The future is now as flat and listless as my joy for life. I know I shall switch on and off at the appointed times and function with machine like spontaneity to spare them all the pain I would cause if I really lived my life. Beautiful words and magical memories rush to fill the brutal void and I hold his black jumper close to me wishing I could be over the rainbow where dreams really do come true. How can I live without him?
This must surely be one of the worst days of my life. To be discovered in several deceptions simultaneously makes me wonder how I can live with myself. I almost wish he had been violently angry and raged at me, thrown me out of the house. Instead he cried and told me he forgave me completely. If this were the worst I could cope, but I know that this is only the beginning of my demise. When things are said and everyone knows, including my children, I will truly be damned to an eternity of hatred from those I love.
I am on the edge. Stopping to think will topple me over so I keep busy and pray for this pain to end. I can see no way out of this despair, certainly no way to avoid hurting those I love. Shouldn’t love be something wonderful? I used to think so, but now I find that because I love many people it becomes socially unacceptable and I am forced to push them away and restrict my love for damage limitation. I really do care so much for everyone and it hurts so much that I can’t make them all happy.
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