Sometime ago…

About three, maybe four years ago, I phoned a friend who has lived in Italy for a long time. He said I don’t laugh as much anymore.

That took me right back to when I was 19, care free, loved and happy. He and I were close friends, we spent almost all our free time together. When he drove, I changed the gears. Sometimes he manipulated me, but I was too easy going to mind. His best friend, Steve was another very close friend. When he was home we were a trio.

That conversation on the phone made me feel the hardship I’ve been through. My marriage went from love and fun to fear, protecting my daughter, realising I kept money after I’d done the shopping until I had almost enough to get me and my daughter away. I asked for a divorce but he would not go. Then I could not bear that he had gone. I know now that I felt guilty, as if I owed him something. I owed him nothing.He was not even legally entitled to see my daughter. This is the first time I’ve said this publicly.

My next relationship was loving, but after time I realised he did not love my daughter. He injured his back badly. Caring for him was snared with guilt trips and his jealousy. He had been possessive from the beginning. I liked it, as I had eyes for no one else. But it became hard work. I asked him to leave.

I spent almosr a decade without a man in my life. I met Geoff fifteen years ago, but we’ve been mainly friends. There have been dates, but primarily I was a mother and worked hours to suit that.

Recently, my ex neighbour made sure I noticed him. I had thought him boring but kind. He certainly isn’t boring. I began to like him. And then in April last year, I fell in love with him.

I won’t tell the rest of that, it does him no favours. I have gone through every emotion since September last year. Today has been miserable because I love him still.

Fragment of Dream…

A shard of memory from dreams
forgotten in the whole
no context for the image left with me
just one fragment of a dream

I see it still, in hazy mind picture
you were embracing me,
your head beside mine, my hand your hair
you wept in this haze of dream

So sorry were you for hurting me
no tongue to voice apology
tears wetting my face, I held your head
hoping it was real, not a dream

When you grow weary of deceiving
pulling the wool over her eyes
there is a room for you here with me
we can take it from there, no dream

Published by The Poetry Bar

Reflecting…

The whole thing with the poor young woman has caused me to reflect. I understand that she feels she loves him, the bloke who punched her face. It will take her a while to realise that love has no forms of violence or attempts at violence.

I had to end my marriage because there was violence towards me. He never punched but threw me to the floor a couple of times and would hold me down, and other things that left no marks.

It took a long time to feel life was OK without him. I had children to look after so my time was full. Now I can’t bear his company.

Violence is never OK. Even attempted violence or words of violence.

Some plants arrived today. I am creating a new flower bed. It will mostly in shade so lots of silver and variegated foliage.

I enjoyed strawberries on my breakfast and the tomatoes are getting redder. It feels good.

Helping a punched in the face girl is hard work…

It’s been a difficult day. I didn’t wake until late and felt blue so I napped until 3pm.

Apart from paying a bill, I’ve accomplished very little except I collected my prescription. I cried all the way home because the pharmacy door was shut and I couldn’t get in. So much for equality. A shut door takes all equality away.

I was leaving to go to the store when I came across a young girl crying into her phone. She had been punched in the face. That she had had drink didn’t her. I brought her back to my house and phoned for an ambulance. She was obviously distressed but kept saying she loved the ex boyfriend. I told her she wasting her time and no one who loves anyone punches anyone.

She was obviously in shock and I gave her a bucket. She spewed everywhere except the bucket. I asked her to slow her breathing and kept reassuring her. She slid off my dining chair onto the floor, still vomiting. The ambo’s arrived and they moved her to my living room, where she vomited on my carpet.

She was taken out to the ambulance. They brought in some antiseptic wipes but I had already cleaned up and used disinfectant.

She at the hospital now and I updated the police. I gave them them the perpetrators name.

I had dinner but my appetite had gone.

I’m hanging in…

I am writing earlier as tiredness and bleeeaaagh have overtaken too often lately. I have never committed to writing everyday but I feel the love here.

Today I have had my worst symptom despite taking the medicine that prevents it. It leaves me feeling disgusted and lacking self-esteem. But I am over it now.

There is no change on the help front, much to my friends disgust. I have asked for the company who shouted at me to have mediation so that we might sort things out.

I have cooked myself simple meals as there is only one of me. For some reason my frying pan is missing. My cleaner might find it tomorrow. If not I’ll have to replace it.

Apart from dashing out to get groceries, the weather has kept me in. Tomorrow is forecast as dry, so I shall plant some plants and get more food.

I’m in a bad sleep mode at present, which I don’t like.

A reply first published on medium.com…

This is such a great piece, and has made my eyes prick with tears for my last love. He came to move in with me after a nine month gap, at which time he was my neighbour. I loved asking him about his day, I loved expressing my gratitude for the things he did for me. I loved to tell him I valued his skills at putting my towel rack together, the shelving in my kitchen and a small trolley to slide into my under- the- stairs cupboard. While he was doing something else, I knelt on the floor looking at a bird table with roof that I had not dreamt would need putting together. It had screws. I took a breath and said, I’ll glue it. He immediately turned to me and said to let him have look. Three minutes later, it was put together with the screws.

He might be in town and text to ask if I needed anything. No. So he would bring me chocolate.

I have poor health, but he didn’t mind. He made wonderful love to me, and I to him.

When he came to move in, he’d been more hasty than I anticipated. The first night left us both with sleep deprivation. The next day, I sat next to him and asked his opinion about a change in the help I had in the house as I was dissatisfied with the help I had. He just kept telling me not to cancel it. I thought he was tired, so I left it for another day. I popped out to see a friend, and when I came back he was gone. At first I thought he’d gone to the local store. No, he was gone as in gone. Later he would text to tell me I had chased him to get a cleaner, cook, and nurse. I felt sad he thought so little of me and himself.

I am not over him.

Some thoughts…

I have just beenwatchingt

No photo description available.

I have just been watching the most beautiful sunset I have seen in weeks. A ferry, all lit up, came in the mouth of the harbour. I am so fortunate to have this aspect from where I write. It is perfect for the winter solstice. It is perfect in summer.

I have just read an article on medium.com. A man writes that life is not for happiness, but for being useful to others and that in being useful, happiness is found.

I have written this many times, and it is refreshing to read someone else writing it.

I have felt a great many things since the diagnosis which affects my breathing. I have felt so unattractive, helpless, frustrated, all of the negative feelings a person can feel. All these, though, resolve into knowing that I have helped a great many people during my life.

I am grateful for this. I may never be happy again, or loved, but I know I have helped people.

Poeting and pain…

Earlier this week, I went to the local poetry evening. it was a great turnout and the vibe was good. I took all my courage and read two ‘love poems’. I don’t know why I needed courage, love is as much a part of life as anything else.

We had tongue in cheek poetry, funny poetry and songs by Romeo with his guitar. He’s also a good poet.

I rode home on the bus with a fellow poet and we chatted. I prefer one to one conversations, and would never have got to know him otherwise. I have a feeling he is gender fluid, which is unimportant, but I’ve never had such friends. It’s warm feeling and he told me he likes my poetry from months ago. To me this is a real validation.

I’ve been going to bed early to relax some muscles that have been really hurting me lately. It is working. I could probably do with having a few drinks to do the job properly. The pain is pretty bad.

Poem published…

Falling

Between liking and in love

there is

          falling

falling for you,

anticipating your arrival, your touch

your smile, the way your black eyelashes

spike above your so very blue eyes

You touch my spine as we kiss hello

my body anticipates your body

delicious is the delay as we talk, we laugh,

do you realise I am falling

the gifts you bring me, you remember my words,

thoughtful, you ease into my heart

So this is falling, wondrous falling,

wanting to please you, as you easily please,

freefall, into your constellation,

moon and stars you are the night sky

what magical moments in this falling,

knowing I will be caught by the moon

Published by Poetry Bar

I had no feelings for him until close to Christmas last year, and that wasn’t deep enough to feel hurt when he left me. If he had never come back to see me, I would never have felt more for him. What a mess he has made in my life, and I was vulnerable after the death of my sister, and then my dog. He should make amends. I don’t hate him.

Published poem…

Stars

Fireworks shot skyward, breaking and multiplying in descent
as my eyes were drawn to you, on the other side of the street.
it was how you walk, your spine motionless as you stride,
your cigarette glowed in the shadow cast by a streetlamp

The way you walk, distinctive, was known to me before
I knew you. A boring, quiet man I had thought, but then
you seduced me, you kissed me as I’d rarely known kissing,
you became the sun and moon, and your walk, sexy

Your love was generous and tender, your huge fingers
electrified me many times, tingled me, touching me in
soft secret sensuality, you are a constellation, stars, a galaxy
magical, your dark eyelashes when you slept, so blue your eyes

Pictures in my head, your face bending toward my breast,
you spoke my name as we lay together, in your need, craving
touch, your hunger overwhelmed me, gladly surrendering
how I still long to sleep beside you again, you’re so sexy

You pace the length of this road, I watch you, wondering
why I am not running downstairs to call your name out loud,
you were taken from me so suddenly, though you returned
but I am still at my window, watching, fearing that we are done