I think one of the reasons I keep this blog is just so I can remember as I get older. I am not sure if anyone even reads these words, but sometimes I go through my stories, poems and blog posts just so I can recreate that moment in my mind and really honour the memory.
In the last few years, I haven't written that much. To be honest, there have been some days where just getting through the day was accomplishment enough. Yet somehow, I long to sparkle through the written word again, I ache to feel the magic in my hands as prose, poetry, content and form just flow through me, as if I were a servant to the creative process. I know now that it needs to be as much of a discipline than a joy as time and motivation can be subsumed by hot Epsom salt baths and Netflix.
And what of now? What is the memory I wish to capture as I live the contrast of experience? I need to somehow capture a little before you become sepia toned and just another story to my cannon.
I miss you.
There are songs I cannot listen to, places I cannot visit, memories I cannot recount and there's this emptiness in my belly that used to be filled by the sound of your voice, the experience of your touch and the warmth of your body as you would pull me in and spoon me all through the night. I felt secure in your presence, safe in your arms and as we would hug, snuggle and nestle in, it felt warm and tender. The love was soft, quiet and gentle.
You would let me sit on your knees if I came into your office, even though there were other chairs, and we would share our day - we would share the highs and lows, accomplishments, achievements and areas of growth. We would laugh or commiserate with one another and then follow it up with either a walk or dinner or both. The love was routine, mundane and secure.
You would look deeply into my hazels with your greens and I would sink into your gaze. There were times when you looked so inviting, warm and sparkling. You would talk about your truth, perception and views with such passion, so focused on your calling, community and goals. No one and nothing would ever stop you from fulfilling your path. The love was fierce, directed and strong.
You would sometimes pick me up in the car and always had a snack in case I got hungry. You'd send me sweaty post workout pictures and be so proud when you had accomplished something. You would have dinner and Netflix waiting, always so tasty and satisfying. You would let me stroke and scratch your beard. The love was protective, caring and comforting.
You would set up camp, drive the car, save the spiders and drink cacao. You would joke around but never let me win at Scrabble. You would use your drill, put up my pictures and let me choose where they should hang. You would make the best desserts, especially when I couldn't. You would laugh until your stomach ached when we played 'Cards Against Humanity'. You would cry at all the films. The love was sweet, innocent and joyous.
You would get a bowl when I was nauseous and let me watch my shows in bed for days and days. You bought me the best present for my birthdays. You would read to me and let me fall asleep in your arms. You would watch fireworks from the bedroom window and take me to the best bonfires if I could make it. You would put your hand down the toilet bowl if needed and stop the car if the road was too bumpy. You laughed at my drug induced humour after the operation and held me close when the tears flowed. The love was unexpected, warm and subtle.
Hands down - our weddings were some of the best days of my life so far.
I miss you.
Someone is listening. Write and create gor yourself first.
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