Murder

It was my Saturday, that Saturday, the weekend where all hell decided to visit the very door that I’d walked through. Yeah, I know, I can hear you looking at me with your questioning eyes. You can keep the words to yourself as you’re going to get nothing from me, apart from this story, the following words and reasons. I'm going to tell you about the Bitch, the Cat, the Rat and the Monster.

The Bitch, that woman all the guys want and dream about. Real provocative with her prerogative of only doing the best. You know her name. There’s always one out there, next to you, with those side glances and smiling eyes. What goes around, comes around and she did just that. We got busy, making plans and doing what two people often did.

Clothes everywhere, the very night before, with the many promises and words spoken after the event. You can’t blame her for being a bitch. You just can’t. She’s worked hard for her body. Those defined curves that need none of my words. Anything I could say would be meaningless as she’s heard all of them before. Instead, we did what comes naturally. She can move. Up, down, back and forth, under or over, she knows that she’s that bitch. The bitch with the scheming and lip biting.

She had every intention and intent. She had all the weapons to show, on show, even when covered. Murder your heart or cripple your mind, she could do all of that and more.

The Cat, the smooth one amongst all of us, gathered within this very room. He knew the words, gliding into all of the rooms, saying all the right things and vanishing again. The schemer, the realiser, the dressed to impress politely scented individual. If you left him alone with your lover, your Mother or your other, he’d know what to do. You probably wouldn't blame him.

That knack, the smack to the side of your head, as he easily manipulates you into doing whatever he wishes. You’d stand beside him, fight alongside him, whilst knowing that he might not do the same for you. The best man, even on his wedding day, as that level of smooth never really fades.

Yeah, you know it, he’s probably got his fingers into all the drawers and motivations. He’d never cry you a river as, instead, he’d save all the tears for himself.

The Rat. That damned rat. The snide filled, preposterously exaggerated slime ball. A part of me wants to like the man, talk to him, yet every word just seems to push me away. He’d sell your soul, your house, your life and your love for a dime. Honesty never seems to feature in his vocabulary, let alone life or thoughts.

He’s the type of loser that would book you a ticket, a great big beautiful ticket, that went the other way. He’d probably snigger at his own deeds, while wishing you’d fall off a bridge. No. He’s never going to be a part of anything resembling a normal person.

The Monster. Finally, we’re here, near the end of my story. The dead one, on the floor, blood all over the expensive carpet. He’s that narcissist. You know the type. Always right, never wrong, living a lie in all shapes and forms. Your opinion, my opinion, mean jack to this type. If you’re looking to impress him, then forget it, as a part of his brain is no longer in his head. There’s also a hole in his chest. Maybe he rubbed the wrong person the wrong way. His snide, smarm filled idiocy rotting away any respect he might have had, if he wasn't a grade A monster.

We all hated the guy. He ridiculed all of us, belittled our ideals, our thoughts and everything about us. I don’t care. Any of the people in this room could have done him in. All with alibis, all spoken for, safe, secured and ever so forgetful. Nothing sticks and nothing would. Yeah, I know, I'm going to smile tonight and walk away from all this.

You see, between you and I, I did it. I'm the quiet one, the calm one, the man with no title or description. I wear the polite smile and use the sensitive charm to my own benefit. I’d help anyone, for anything. I’ll hold the door and carry your bag. I’ll say the right thing, just at that moment, all the while showing my sensitive side. I'm the one that you’d never expect to do anything like this.

Yeah, you hear me. It’s the people like me that you have to worry about, wonder about, as I scheme and deduce the avenue of attack. I’ll rip your arm in two, tear your life apart, walk away without a scratch and laugh as I do it all again and again. I'm the interesting, intelligent, seductive lover of many but lifetime partner of a few. Don’t doubt me, as he did.

Just look at them. Standing there, all shocked. Not because the Monster’s dead, but because they never got to him before I did. He never saw it coming. The brutality, the madness released into the world as the raw energy broke him in half. He tried, he really, really tried, but he never had a chance. Each strike, permanent, precise, with the final two blows made with certainty.

The Bitch, the Cat, the Rat and the Monster have nothing on me. I'm not normally noticed, yet liked by all, as I'm known as the Nice one.

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Choir

The voices, together, the unison of union unifying each of their chords into a rhapsody of excellence. For eons they’d waited, adjusted their tonal balances, defining each of their roles in the play that was soon to begin. All of the years, the ecstasy and grace from each of them, ready and willing to express themselves in the only way they were willing.

The mountain, vast, the highest point upon this very world, defined, refined by the ravaging oceans of the millennia. The ages of ice, the moments of raw lava spewed forth by the aching planet, finally ready to bestow the cosmos with another moment of pure perfection.

They prepared themselves, steadfast, all smiling, realising that some moments transposed mere thought and imagination. They were the watchers, the ones that held the weight of decisions upon their very souls. Commanded by the one, administered by the many, the universe being their very beck and call.

Celestine stepped forward, looking over the cliff edge, listening with all of his strength as the moment neared. The magic, the persistence of life, flowing around them with every single blade of grass and the movement of a tree. Seconds moved, moments escaped them, as Celestine stepped back into their ranks. The perfect line, the strength of their very resolve, commanding them, domineering each of their thoughts, as the first amongst them started to sing.

The sound of pure, evanescent, vocal magnificence moved from the lips of magic. One by one, each of them, adding their love and abundance to their musical moments. The singing of the few, embracing every living creature and source around them. This moment, the very minute, marked as destiny embraced two hearts meaning to become a third. The beauty, as they closed their eyes, felt amongst their hearts and minds.

Their music, their song, reaching over the thousands of miles and searching ears. The calm, the absolute beauty and permutations warming every single beating heart and soul. This was the beginning, the very start of all that would come after the song. It mattered not what came before as, finally, this world asked them to become more. They’d created something magical, beautiful, from the love they’d shared on many, many nights.

The Angels sang, upon the highest mountain, singing with everything found within. Their wings, pointing towards the ground, folded into safety, allowing their sweet song to welcome the new moment. They all smiled, they beamed with every single atom of their very hearts. They joined hands, still echoing their emotions from their heavenly song.

They heard the crying, of the first, the very first born to a planet such as this. The first child, the final adaption of the world’s creative wonder. They sang. They sang with such force and gentility, that the heavens themselves opened the very clouds above them, to allow the universe to view this very moment.

The two creatures, the two that had joined together, embraced as they held their child in their arms. The moment of beauty, the seconds of pain over, the joy flowing from each of them, as tears of joy fell to the very song above their heads. They sang. They sang and dared never to stop, as another was born, then another, with many more appearing. The world, the very start of every single moment, beginning as the choir welcomed the sentient life to this very world.

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Together

Closing her eyes, as she placed her forehead gently against his, she asked the question that was on both their minds, “Are you sure you want to do this?” It was a difficult question, with an answer that they both knew, especially after the four million the project had cost, so far. He smiled, thinly vailing his real thoughts,

“Remember what you said to me?”

She nodded, remembering the words, which she repeated back to him, “You’re the most selfish, giving, loving person I know.” She smiled as tears appeared, falling away to the floor. He wanted to stop, despite the situation. The love of his life, versus his life’s work. His very dream opposed to his living happiness. He felt the warmth escape from her skin, as the tears fell from her beautiful, deep eyes. If he could have both, forever and this day, he truly would, and his own tears spoke as much.

She stepped back, looking at his face, taking the moment to firmly embrace his features for the last time. She understood, realised from the very start, that sometimes dreams transposed love to another place. She knew how he felt about her, as he’d taken every moment he could to prove the words and feelings. She felt him, knew him like no other man alive, which meant that her own pain was secondary. She knew, she damn well knew, that loving someone meant that you had to let them go, if that was what they wanted.

She stepped back another few steps, allowing her view to be filled with the spectacle in front of her. The machine, this machine, that had taken him over six years to build, perfect, let alone the years spent on design and testing. The moment had arrived and, to her, she was beyond proud of what he was trying to accomplish. She’d helped, being something of a genius herself, a mathematician with that prestigious Fields Medal, of all things. That was how they’d met.

She was so flirty back then, as her mind craved other stimulus away from maths and conundrums. He was a whirlwind, emotional, brilliant, that magnificent power that entered a room with force. He commanded attention, despite being quite quiet, in his own silly little way. They’d hit it off from the start, his boyish charm and her need to be taken far, far away from the norm. They’d made love like the end of the world was just around the corner and now, over the next few minutes, her world would end and start anew.

She turned and walked towards the door, no longer willing or able to stay calm. She wanted to cry even more, to let her whole heart embrace the hurt cutting her in two. A part of her was filled with expressive wonder at what the world was about to become, while the other half, her heart, wanted to take his hand and run. Run away to wherever or whatever they could find.

The heavy door closed behind her, as she stood looking through the large viewing window. Surrounded by like minded people, all excited whilst the silent sadness crept amongst them, the thought of never seeing him again, rested upon all of their minds.

“Fifty seconds!” said a calm voice from behind her.

He raised his head to look into the other room. He was braced on all sides, his head pressing against the soft fabric behind him, as the last restraint moved into place. He could feel the fear rise within, embraced and matched by the pure excited adrenaline rushing through his body. He looked at her, in the other room, as he felt his heart connect. The room fell silent as his view changed to one of love.

He knew what he was letting go of. It cut him, hurt him to his very core, especially as meeting such a woman was scarce in the world they both lived within. She embraced his fire within, kept him going on the nights where he seemed to lose faith in his very thoughts. She kept him sane while the world seemed to be against him. He finally let go, feeling the emotion overwhelming him as he spoke, “I know that I'm being selfish. Please forgive me. You held my hand after so many years of being alone and now, I'm letting go of the most beautiful person I've ever known. I know that you understand why I'm doing this. I know you do, but that doesn't make it any more selfish,” he stopped, for a second, as the voice informed him that he only had twenty seconds remaining, “I don’t know what will happen, but please know that I’ll always be there, looking after you, keeping you safe. Please, forgive me!  I love you so much!”

The machine started to hum with energy, the charge building as he felt the static rise around him. The hairs on his skin lifted as he felt his body start to feel weightless. There was now no return. He closed his eyes as the last tear fell. Every molecule, his atoms, pulled apart by a mere fraction, compacting themselves within a micro-second as his body ceased to exist.

She watched everything. All of it. She dared not to look away as he seemingly vanished. The room fell silent as the hum, from the machine, fell away. Seconds vanished as they all just stared at the machine. Shell shocked, the accomplishment partially understood as the realisation gently settled into each of their minds. He was gone. The physical turned to energy, an energy that they may never understand. Each of them would have days of data to study, to prove the results, to try and visualise if what had happened, presented the realistic conclusive results.

She closed her eyes. Done, finally, over with. Her body felt cold, a sick feeling rising within her stomach. She simply did not know what to do, how to say anything now that he was gone. She steadied herself, placing a hand onto the side of the desk, as she felt warmth from her side. As she opened her eyes, confused, she felt a kiss upon the side of her face and from nowhere, she heard him speak, “I love you!”

Her mouth opened, the shock hitting her within a second, as she addressed the people around her, “How quickly can you put me into that machine?”

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Car

The car stopped, engine purring, feeling, after being driven harder than usual. Aggression, loud, strong, pouring from every part of him, he knew that he had to stop. He didn’t like this side of him, seldom seen, never really felt, but real and part of him nonetheless. He’d fought against this, denied this moment for far too long, yet the moments often found a way to reach the surface. 

Grief, loss, pain, all part of living, but this… this was different. His life had desires, needs, wishes and wants within his every thought. Hidden, scripted in an ink that vanished from his view each time he tried yet, of course, he knew they existed. 

Emotions, his emotions, held together so tightly that one would assume that he had control of his entire world. His every thought, his imagination, skilled at finding life and wonder in all things, often roamed free to explore such fantasises alive and bold. He held them, close, against his heart, often wanting to let free his very wants into the world but that, for him, was easier said than obviously done. 

He’d taken, indulged, used, experienced, loved, lost and more. No matter which word you used, he’d experienced a lot of the world. The vices, the obvious prices, each moment sculpting his soul into another state of mind. Sure, of course, he’d wiped the slate clean, a few times, but that seldom arrived at any type of solace. The depths, of the very depths, of his mind wished to bath across another that the room would look the other way at such thoughts. These things, to him, were buried deep. 

He’d hidden so much, kept it all so tightly together, the pressured job, the loss of life, the loss of Friends and lovers, yet still asking the world… begging the world, for something. Something… that he needed. The world answered, the universe called, arranged for the needs to be met but, as with many things, the words destroyed what the world created. 

Sitting there, alone, in his car, breathing harshly into the cabin, he knew what he’d done. You have chances and choices, each day. Each a miracle, often taken from you, expanded for as long as we can indulge, taken for granted. He felt himself open, finally, exclusively, slowly at first and then… a panic. 

 No matter how strong, no matter what you own, say, do or witness, nothing can hold the hand of a person that no longer wishes to be with you. It’s a fact, written upon the walls of time and will never, ever, change. Even the most accomplished script writer, the poet, the writer of life, could find the words that he needed to turn back time. 

Done. Over. Gone. No more. The play finishing with a bleak outlook that threatened his sanity and worth. It would be okay, he knew this, felt this, but that didn’t stop the emotion moving into him creating insanity. Too much, too anything's, all at the same time started to crush his mind. Threatened, the danger apparent within his every thought, he knew that he had one rescue. 

He would never run, as that wasn’t the person he was. He wouldn’t ignore this, abandon himself, as he knew the only answer would be a solution. There were no short cuts, the rising anxiety threatening every single breath, but he couldn’t just escape. 

As his thoughts clouded his judgement, his sanity, his very essence, pushed through the faltering breathing and grasped the first solid judgement he’d had in the last few hours. He would escape, abandon everything, every person, realising that his sanctuary would be within his own heart. He wouldn’t simply find rescue in the arms of another. He would face this, face himself, look into the mirror of his own eyes and admit his failure to hold his world together. 

He knew that he was allowed to break, permitted to fail, despite knowing that many would shy away from him once they heard the news. It was time. There was no place to hide from himself. No magical drug to reduce his issues to mere memories long gone. He cleared his eyes, stopping the tears, understanding that right now, this moment, he was once again in a car, alone. The constant drive to a new destination staring him in the face. A new road, the never-ending path to rescue.  

Written last year, around November time.

Animal

The door slammed, signalling that he was finally in the other room. She knew, she damn well knew, that he was aware of every single little thing that he did. On purpose, defined and designed, to illicit the momentary jump in her heart. This man, that man a few metres away from her, wasn't the man that her Mother had warned her about all the years previous. He was the type of man that would walk into a room and command attention from every single damn woman. The devil you wanted to know, the devil you knew, the demon that every woman sorely desired.

She’d known his name, for the longest time, through the usual rumours and blathering of her friends. His name, that name. Whenever she thought of his name her legs seemed to tingle, her stomach flutter and temperature rise. She didn't really wish for someone, or anything, to have this much control of her body, as well as mind, but there were moments that were inevitable. She was, after all, an animal of sorts with all of the desires and needs. As a woman, of course, she wished and wanted to deny such motivations as they seemed uncouth. A lady should do what a lady should be. Or, at least, that’s the way she’d be brought up.

She closed her eyes, halting some of her more basic thoughts, realising that she’d probably work herself into a stupor. That wouldn't do. Not for her imagination to play a part. She knew that life could be stale, sedate, even drastically boring, which meant that someone like him could light such a fire within.

She recalled the first day they’d met, by off chance, as she frequented her usual coffee shop. They had mutual friends, seen pictures, which meant an immediate connection could be achieved. She spoke, the words falling from her lips as she tried not to babble. His eyes basically did what they often did. She’d been undressed ten times, taken, used, all in that one conversation. He had such an amazing smile, despite his eyes betraying his actual real thoughts. She’d feel disgusted, by the way he viewed her, but in all honesty she didn't mind as he raised something from within by the way he looked.

She chastised herself for being unbelievably superficial, the very notion that she despised. It was no use. She couldn't help it. He’d asked her to dinner, just before he left, the confidence literally destroying any reason to say no. She’d never regret that moment, or any moment, she hoped.

She snapped away from her thoughts as the door opened. He stepped into the room. Him. This. That man. She wanted to smile, to say hello, as she instead sat motionless. She didn't fear him, instead transfixed by whatever it was that he possessed. She wanted all of it. All of him. Up, down, left or right, it didn't matter how hard or how much he made her beg, she’d still come back for more. Maybe it was his aura, the way he stood, not actually giving an absolute fuck for anything at all.

He smiled, letting a moment of genuine emotion escape from his lips. They both knew why she was there, why he was there, neither of them needing to actually say anything at all. He stepped forward, a few steps, holding out his hand to her. Placing her small bag to the side of the chair, she stood and stepped forward, placing her hand in his. The smell of his body caressed her senses as her mind started to spin ever so slightly. She would adore him, maybe even love him, but this wasn't anything to do with that sort of thing.

His hand felt warm, strong, his fingers interlocking with hers as she felt her breathing falter. Standing, face to face, she’d touch his chest if she felt that she were allowed to do so. This was his game, all of his motivation, designed to send those feelings through her body, mind and maybe more. He wasn't wearing a top, his loose pants showing far too much of his lower stomach. The lines, those defined lines pointing towards what she needed, turned her mind towards the right way of thinking.

She stood there, just looking at his defined face. She simply could not get over the way he looked at her. She needed to know, to understand, what drove a man in the way he was driven. The way he touched, the way he held her against him, all created to entice her body to react in the only way it could. She caught herself, late at night, waking up without him, yearning to be touched by his lips. The way he moved over her skin, the way his damn mind worked, all accentuated his fingertips embracing her body.

From nowhere, possibly sensing what the moment needed, he gently moved forward and kissed her. His soft lips gently pressed against hers and moved in a way, that closed her eyes and calmed her heart. It was a kiss that simply said that he’d missed her. The soft, attentive, carefully crafted movements. She felt the strength in her legs start to fade as his right arm moved around her waist, moving her body forward against him.

The kisses, turning from tender, soft, to deep thirst filled wanton gestures, finally breaking any false pretences she’d planned. It was no use. She simply didn't care. Her body was his, designed for him, to please and take everything he could offer. She could feel her body heat increase, nurturing her aroused state as his desire started to rise. She could barely keep her hands from his body, as she slipped a hand down the side of his thigh, her thumb catching his pants as they slipped away from his body.

He smiled, knowing, understanding, that a woman desired what she needed and that there would never be an issue with such a thing. He knew, he’d known for the longest time, that at their base they were simply animals. All the bullshit, all the pretence, the years and years of garbage, getting in the way of the one defined reason for living on this very world.

Her hand moved from the side of his thigh, caressing him as he closed his eyes at the very touch of her soft, perfect fingers. Teasing, tempting, tantalising his very mind to let go of his restraint. She’d often wondered how he could hold back, the way he did, as the following minutes would become wilder than anything she’d known with any other man. All of her sanity, grace, the pathetic pretence of being something more than what they were, would be erased in the furore of his body commanding hers.

Her thoughts fell from her mind as her body finally, easily, simply, gave in to all of her desires. Her body, fully engaged, completely willing to give itself to the next few hours, ached for him to be inside her, around her, lips teasing and tasting her. She would destroy the very room to have him right now, as he gave in to her demands. He removed her hand from his body, lifting her from the ground as her legs wrapped around his waist. He bit her neck, softly, enticing, as the look in his eyes changed from one of care, wanting her, to some type of dark grace. She could not deny that he scared her, despite never hurting her more than she shivered for, the fear actually being from not quite being able to reach the place his eyes hinted at. A level. A deep primal place where urges gave way to an encompassing natural embrace.

As he carried her over to the bed, which they often didn't even reach, his eyes seemed to envelope her very soul and if she were to be lost forever, in this moment, she’d gladly become that animal just for him.

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Truth

He sat there, wondering, wishing that he could turn the mighty hands of time. Backwards, forwards, or maybe even stop them. Either way, no matter the end scenario, he was here, and he’d have to face any possible future. His words, the words, those words, that he’d used upon that very second did more damage than a thousand small cuts. At least the cuts would heal, eventually, but words seemed to remain within a person.

He’d take a sip of his drink, plain water, but his nerves simply wouldn't allow such a thing. Leaning forward, placing his hands onto his face, he exhaled a heavy constant breath. His heart, beating like a wild beast, thundered in his ears as he reminded himself that he’d have to eventually calm down. This wasn't how love worked, couldn't be anywhere near marriage or maybe even, if he were married, divorce. When a man holds something amazing within his grasp, he knows, he damn well knows, that he has to keep hold of something as precious as love. That connection, the two smiles meeting in the middle, with words being the failing of most.

He knew his curse, the madness, of saying too much at the wrong time, saying too little at the right time, with the rest falling between the cracks. He wasn't the fastest thinker, maybe even put his foot deep into the mud of life a few too many times, but he had to recover from this. There were only two choices. Learn to crash, accept the way things were, or try with every ounce of energy to fly again. She had the wings to carry the both of them, with his support being the stability they both wished for. There were no islands in their worlds. There were no safety nets. Only each other.

Finally, giving in, he reached forward, grabbing the drink, bringing it to his lips to drink. He noticed his hand, shaking. He honestly felt sick, to his very core, which was not like him at all. In a court of law, he’d be tried, convicted and sentenced all within a second. Shaking his head slightly, his very thoughts torturing him, he returned the drink to the table. Glancing at the clock upon the far wall, he looked at the door as it opened. His heart spiked, as he stood. She was here.

He weakly smiled through his sheepish forlorn face. With her, he knew, there would be no hiding. His poker face would hardly win at monopoly, let alone something as serious as this, which was why whenever he spoke it was actually the truth. He knew that he was a good man, a trusted man, which didn't make any of this any easier.

He looked at her as she walked across the room. She looked sad, her face also betraying her thoughts, as his heart cried out in vain. This was hurting him, destroying whatever sanity he held onto, but it was time to face his actions. Now, or the never, would be the outcome. She, as usual, looked absolutely beautiful despite the sleepless nights apparent upon her eyes. She wore his favourite outfit, the one that she wore on their first date, with her hair trying to hide her face from view as she approached. He truly, unreservedly, unequivocally, loved her without respite. There wasn't anything that he wouldn't do to hold her hand but, as he knew, he would freely watch her walk away if she chose to do so.

She stood in front of him, their awkward posturing getting in the way, as he leaned slightly forward to kiss her cheek. He sorely wished to kiss her where he should kiss her, upon those temptingly coloured cherry lips. The lines, drawn, the distance, imparted, with the both of them sitting. He smiled and she, with her head slightly down, glancing once, returning his quick smile. A few seconds moved forward, the silence remaining the only noise within the room. This wasn't a moment to hold back, to feel pride, or reserve words to gain some kind of ignorance. He knew. He knew, the moment that this scene came into existence.

Moving forward slightly, bridging the gap, his arms rested against his legs with his hands just in front of hers. With his softest, most caring voice, he dared himself to be brave, honest and caring, “I’m so very, very sorry for what I said!”

She blinked once, as he spoke, her poker face being one of cold blank ice. He knew that her heart warmed his entire world, which made a moment like this scare him to his very core. She nodded, once, maybe signalling that she accepted his words. He would not question such a moment, as he, instead, had a few more words to add.

“When we first met, I said that I'm not perfect. I'm hardly a wordsmith and I can be a bit stupid, but I'm the kind of stupid that you seemed to like. I… do love you. The last few days have been so horrible. I'm nothing without you and we both know that. I'm meant for one thing…”

He stopped, as she raised her head, a small smile escaping.

“…I'm meant to love you. To make you smile. To do all the things that you like and, unfortunately, do a few silly things that you don’t.” He closed his eyes, hands still shaking, trying to gain control of his firing mind.

“I am so very sorry. Please,” he paused, as he moved from the chair to sit on his legs in front of her, looking up, “Please, I am so sorry!” He looked into those glorious eyes of hers, his sincerity plainly written upon his face, as he dared to slowly move forward, stopping just in front of her lips. He knew that if she moved away, he would lose her forever.

A second escaped, as she remained still, his lips in front of hers, their eyes locked together. He closed the distance and kissed her, her arms moving around him as he felt her against him. All of the tension, stress and sorrow faded for a brief second. He wasn't just going to believe that everything would now be forgotten, as that wouldn't be sensible. “Are we okay?” he asked, the moment the kiss ended.

She nodded as he, once again, whispered the truth that he was sorry.

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Care

As a young child I honestly fell in love with the very ideal of love. Maybe I watched far too many black and white movies, the angst and purity of caring for someone, that beautiful singular person that exudes the emotion and glances that melt your heart, mind and soul. It’s all a complex, silly, crazy mix and match of thoughts and ideals. I often wonder why I wish to love everyone, literally, as I try to find beauty in every single person.

Then, usually upon a certain day or moment, those ideals are wounded and torn. It’s life, it’s the way of things, which I accept as I'm hardly naïve to expect anything other than the imperfect ways of the world. I was still in primary school when my Father informed me, while walking through a Cathedral of all places, that there was no love between my Mother and Father. I simply didn't understand. Love was supposed to be forever. That changed things but I still believed and now, I do understand.

I'm the type of person that tries to see the positive in all things, despite my own thoughts realising the absolute futility of defined moments and realistic outcomes. Believe… until it’s time not to believe. Hold your tears… until it’s time for them to escape. I'm not a person that wallows in self-deprecation. If I have a problem, I’ll be the first to admit it, with no holding back, which then allows my mind to find a solution. I want to fix things. It’s what I do. Fixing others, on the other hand, is not for me to do. I realised a long time ago that people, realistically, seldom actually ‘wish’ to be fixed.

I pushed aside the thoughts that love didn't last forever. That was a mistake but, as with many things, time informs, and lessons are understood. So many times, over the years, I've heard that you must protect your heart. At all times. Now that I'm older I actually refute that claim. The heart, if you believe in that angle of thinking, is the stupidest notion/thing/ideal in the entire world. We know that it’s all chemicals, yet still cling to the ideal that there’s some imaginary portion dedicated to love. It is beautiful, it’s a calming notion, to think that a heart beats for us.

Love is selfish. Always has been, always will be. You know that love can be selfish when you try to impute a pure love with someone leaving you. We ‘should’ be happy to see the person we love with someone else. It didn't work, it didn't happen, but instead we have anger, loss, jealously and a whole load of idiotic moments. Once again, it’s life, love and the crazy motion and notion surrounding the very ideal. Don’t get me wrong, I'm as loopy as any love-struck idiotic person and will always dream of love, despite realising the pitfalls and agony that it procures.

So, yes, we all protect our hearts. I then start to laugh. No, we don’t. We’re ever so silly when confronted with ‘that’ smile that moves our hearts and naughty bits. We just fall in love again. Then, again. Once more. Another attempt. Repeat until tired, jaded, blaming everything and everyone for another failure and more. We, once again, protect our magical hearts.

We should throw that way of thinking out of the door. The heart will always do what the heart wants. There’s no stopping that second. There’s no moving the fact that some people do, will, have always, taken our very breath away. They walk in, logic and thinking walk out. That smile warms you, the way they move calms you, with the thought of that kiss flaring your needs to the point of overflowing desire. Just get it over and done with. Screw until you cannot stand. Enjoy life. Stop messing around and do not, at all, protect your heart. You have no choice. There will be tears. There will be moments of sorrow filled with solemn, deep, cutting, pain. Then, after you've erased their lips from your body you can move forward with healing. Heck… would it kill us to actually realise that some people are here today, gone tomorrow, with nothing more than our own selfish desires getting in the way? But, saying that, men and women should not lie. That’s critical.

I’m nearly getting to the point! All the talk of love, the heart, the never-ending bliss of holding a hand, has many of us confused. You do not need to protect your heart. We've never had to do that. It’s blocking our thinking from what we ‘do’ need to protect. Our minds. Your heart might be fragile, but it knows how to heal. It wishes, wants, recovers and pines for another. Your mind, on the other hand, is so very delicate. It thirsts to be fed. It’s the one and only source of everything within our worlds. It needs balance, it requires safety, calm and a haven to escape to. You’re trapped in a small room with yourself and, no matter how many times you try to escape, you’ll always return.

As a young child I honestly fell in love with the very ideal of love. I did watch far too many black and white movies, that seldom talked about the affairs of the mind, instead focussing on the heart. I now know that I no longer need to protect my heart. It’s my mind that I need to help, and it’s always been my mind. It’s all a complex, silly, crazy mix and match of thoughts and ideals. I've met a lot of people in my life, loved many, lost even more, but I'm finally in this place, that place, where I strongly realise that everything we are, is right there, wide open for everyone to see. Protect it, care for it, always, as a broken mind is far, far worse than a broken heart.

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