So there I was ordering the perfect cake for my mums big birthday. She was 50. Although she has refused on many occasions to be called 50.
I picked up the said cake and at a quick glance everything seemed fine:
Happy 50th birthday Mum
I thought it said.
On the way home the excitement of having a cake on my lap, uneaten, was too much to bare, so I took a little peak.
I think I would’ve preferred: Happy 50th birthday Bum.
The cake said that she was 60. FUCKING 60?!?!?
Cue hormonal rant about the embedding of wrinkles, the menopausal sweats and the ‘stuff’ heading down south.
And then to make matters worse I thought my misplaced humour would lighten the mood but the “well you look amazing for 60 mum” comment went down like a nuclear bomb.
On the plus side though the icing was easily smudged off and the cake was delicious and mum does looks amazing for 60…
And for those moments it’s me and him and nothing else matters. No one exists but…us.
And I’m looking in his eyes pleading for this to be reality and as we settle for one of our cuddles I feel completely consumed. Utterly swallowed up. Sucked in.
And when we fall about laughing at a past memory our laughs come together and make the greatest sound of happiness that I’ll ever hear.
And then there’s a moment when our eyes lock in and I can’t seem to pull away because those eyes are so much more than that. Those eyes are everything I want to wake up and see.
And in one comment it’s gone. “I think I’m going to cook dinner for me and the Mrs this weekend” he said. The problem is…the ‘Mrs’ isn’t me. The problem is it was said when I weren’t around. The problem is he thought I wouldn’t know. The problem is..me.
Kit Harington is what I like to call a God. I’ve watched his film ‘Pompeii’ twice now and every time…seriously. He is another kind of perfection.
I love the ending of the film, there’s something very raw about it. Something very ermmm god I don’t know…but every time I watch it I get a lump in my throat: http://youtu.be/l5EYyWVyH5w
The way he holds her face and protects her even when he knows that he can’t save her. The way he looks at her and the way that the world and it’s destruction stops for them in their moment of bliss, it’s just so peaceful and breath taking.
I want him. Not even for his 8 pack but for his manly protectiveness. *sigh*
I’ve not been blogging lately. I guess you know that. I haven’t had the urge to write anything funny or remotely sarcastic so I haven’t bothered writing at all. I’ve been going through the motions day in day out and just existing. Just being. I feel extremely empty and it’s nothing a ‘quick getaway’ can fix or a shopping trip for that matter, and that’s when you know things are bad. My friend James said this feeling of complete brokenness will fade in time but what happens if it doesn’t? What happens if I spend life being reminded of everything we were? What happens if I get to 42 and I’m still looking for him? Still looking to see that glint in those eyes or that smile that’s just for me. What happens if life moves on and I don’t?
I’ll be that woman who writes into local papers, pleading for her long lost love to get in touch. But this isn’t just some holiday romance or summer bunk up. I’m infatuated. I’m besotted. I’m completely consumed.
I feel so empty and hollow. Like I have something missing from me. It’s like a hole inside me and when I breathe in, the air goes there and nowhere else and I struggle to find where the next breath is coming from. This is what it’s like, I have a missing piece.
You know who you are.
And every night I spend reading back through old texts like they are memories I’m clinging on to and I try to fill that void. And every night I get the same outcome ‘Sorry, please try again later’. I need to have him back. I need him to fill that space that only he can, to make me feel complete. He’s the only one that can do that.
Separately we are good people but together we’re perfect and I hate that I can’t call him mine, not in a possessive way but in a loving way. I hate that he won’t be there when I have a mini graduation from this stupid teaching course and I hate that I’m not there when he comes home from work to find dinner on the table and me waiting to discuss his day.
I hate that my life exists right now without waking up beside him or feeling butterflies at the thought of seeing him the next day. My life feels like it’s breaking at the seams and I have no will to put it back together alone.
I love him. I love him so much that without him I mean nothing because I’m only me when I’m with him.
So that’s my bank holiday. Hopefully yours has been somewhat happier. But when you turn over in the night tonight and find the person you’re in love with sleeping beside you, remember how lucky you are. So lucky that you have someone who accepts you for all you are and everything you’re not and still chooses you every single day.
I’d walk a million miles to sleep beside him because the way we look at each other and the way we hold one another…it just glues back together all the pieces of us that are broken and only together are we perfect, safe and content..
So I’m finally happy with chapter one of my book. So logically I’ll move on to chapter two now (corrr she’s bright this one). This is the moment my character, Jess, goes to bed and is greeted by her conscience which is hell bent on leaving her wanting anything but sleep.
My mind at night: You thought you were special did you? And I suppose you thought you were the only one? An exception. The only one he’d ever looked at like that, because you’re different from all the others, right? That’s what he told you. You were special, a one off, you even dared to think you were important. And not that you’re big headed but you start to feel a sense of worth…you’re needed. You started to blow up this bubble to protect you both and when you were alone you were the only two in the world weren’t you? All snug. You loved him and everything he was or yet to be. Completely besotted. Bless.
Me: *reaches for her half used scrunched up Kleenex from last night’s tear catastrophe*
My mind at night: oh sweetheart those things were said to make you stay, to make you feel like you were a one off. But to him you’re just another girl. Another. One more. But not the last. And that doesn’t make you silly it makes you human. Not everything he says is worth hanging on to darling. And even if you still believe it after all this time, it doesn’t make you foolish but a very nice person. Now go to sleep.
Like it? I like Jess. It needs tweaking but I like the idea. Anyway how are we all?
My phone just changed ‘tweaking’ to ‘twerking’. Ewwww. So presumptuous and so unnecessarily sexual for a Saturday afternoon.
Happy chocolate day!
I just popped downstairs to start work, oh yeah I’m dedicated *flicks hair and manages to flick herself in the eye* and I notice my mum outside, in the garden, trimming our small little shrub. I asked her what she was doing and if she needed help and she replied with…
“It’s fine darling, I’m only trimming my bush”
Apparently I’m the one with the dirty mind…
Anyway happy chocolate eating or whatever you lovely people are doing :) I shall be consuming as much chocolate as my body can take because I believe in embracing culture and tradition until you are violently sick.
I have really surprised myself these last couple of weeks. I’ve adapted to life as I now know it and it hasn’t been that bad. It really is amazing what we can do with the right mentality and a clearer grasp on reality.
Maybe we all need to take some time, even if it is just five minutes at lunch, just to sit quietly and gain some perspective. Sit quietly and just…sit. Take it all in, register events, realise feelings, acknowledge people’s existence in your life and just accept it.
Take a deep breath and let all the anger and bitterness out. Being bitter is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to feel the effect…it will only eat you up.
There is never a problem that cannot be fixed and there is never a situation that cannot be resolved. Have enough faith in yourself that you deserve more than this, right now, whatever it is. Life owes you nothing but freedom. Use yours wisely.
“Life will throw you challenges and you must rise to them”.
My Mum is a wonderful human being and she is the heart and soul of our family without a shadow of a doubt. She is the glue that keeps us all together…and the woman who advises me that putting a pink t-shirt (accidentally) in with a white wash is not the grandest of ideas unless “your life’s goal is to roam the world looking like a human dose of candy floss”. Her words exactly. Such a treat.
So she said this last night:
“Life will throw you challenges and you must rise to them”.
And yes she’s right, not only because she is my mum (and genetically programmed to be so) but because she has a secure grasp of what it means to live. Life wont always deal you the hand you want so what are you going to do? Cry into your pillow or wallow into a tub or two of Ben and Jerry’s? No. You take life by the short and curlies and you show it what you are made of.
Challenges aren’t there to put you down, they aren’t there to make you feel low. Challenges are there to make us better people, to make us strive and want for a better life. We all get the same chance in life. You can sit back if you want to but I don’t plan on watching life pass me by. I want to be running along with it knowing that I have risen to every challenge that has fallen in my path. I may lose a few fights here and there but I don’t plan on losing the war.