Goodbye.

She blinked, a few times, making it very obvious that she was holding back her emotions. He, however, let it go. All his life he’d been told that he was supposed to be a man, to stand tall, to be honest, reliable, to look for what’s right but this, this moment, it all seemed so very wrong. He could hear his Father’s words ringing in his ears but he denied the pressure, the scolding, so instead he let it go. A singular tear fell onto his cheek and rolled down his face. This, this thing that they had, was supposed to be forever.

As a child he knew that boys were different to girls. Of course, yes, there were the obvious physical differences, but he was talking about how they were meant to act. Girls would be girls and boys would be boys but one day, like today, they all had to mature into something new, something… else. He didn't want to be the bad boy, the boy that kissed the girls and made them cry, but like all his friends, he had, he had made a few cry, so maybe this was where the universe made everything level.

She was leaving. She was leaving tomorrow, on a plane, quite possibly never to return. All of the words, all of the emotions, the motions, the never ending kisses in the mind’s eye and the words spoken within the dark nights, would soon end. This moment, right here, now, was the final goodbye.

He knew that although he was saying goodbye, they’d see each other again, one day, in another way, once a new sun had set. This, however, did not bring comfort as time has seldom been kind to lovers lost. Time. If only he had more time. Another tear, another moment, another trace of life left to dust, this was something that he’d never thought he’d live through.

Your heart beats, it rests, it’s given to another and feels in your chest. He’d split his heart in two, many years previous, but this was a clean break as the other part was given into her hands. She held his heart, caressed it with kisses, with warmth, with the very thought of missing and holding him. The pieces she held, he could see them, with his own imagination, shattering into a thousand shards of sharp, cutting, perilous pain.

For a second he actually put aside his feelings, the tears ceased and, like a person that truly understood what love meant, he asked her if she would be okay.   It mattered not how he felt, when he considered the situation, as love commanded that he consider the other person’s health and fortitude above his own. This was love. This was what it truly meant. To love is to provide a haven, a safe place to rest, to heal, then when the time comes, to wish your love well and let them go… with love. Anything else is selfish, self-serving, a failing, a truly sad place to be.

She knew that she would be okay, she had the support, she had the wealth of life and family behind her. Both standing, both embracing for the final time, he kissed her as if he held the last ember of air remaining in the world, trying to keep her alive for a second more. Fruitless, painful, but the endings never were kind for any soul within this world.

He sat as the door closed. This moment, right here, would strengthen him, would enliven his soul, it would ensure that he withstood the world to follow. He would be brave, he would be strong, he would brush aside the selfish wanderings of the mind and wish only wealth into the world. For everything, absolutely everything, there is a time.  Today, that time, meant goodbye. Tomorrow, the tears would no longer appear and a new world remains.

He would relish the goodbye, he would feed upon the happiness and laugh with the smiles. Goodbye was, after all, a new beginning.

A true story from my youth. Through life, through pain, through realising that love is kind, even when it hurts, you can come to understanding and accept nearly ANY decision made by a person that you love.  In my case she was taken out of the country by her family. Tough times.

Promises

Smiling, with hesitation, Gladys turned to the instructor and nodded a small nod that could have been missed by the people gathered around. Terrified, in one way, while absolutely invigorated with actual life she stepped forward. She’d not felt this way since, well, forever and a day. She looked up, at the wall, telling herself that the distance was not that far but far enough for her to think twice. She scolded herself, again, for the tenth time today. The ride over in the car, walking into the complex and, pretty much, the entire last few hours had been filled with doubt.

Closing her eyes, feeling her breath, she remembered his face, that sweet face that she’d never forget even if she’d not seen him for many a year. She still missed him, the one, that single man that turned her head and kept her heart jumping to the moon and back. She smiled, just a small little smile, opened her eyes and stepped forward while whispering to Simon, her instructor, that she was ready.

Looking across she could see family, friends, gathering people and the press. To think that her little stunt had gathered so much attention was an understatement but she didn't care about that as she’d made a promise. That promise, she reminded herself, had been outstanding for near 12 years.  She felt the harness tighten slightly as the slack vanished. “Take it slow and if you need to stop then just let me know!” said Simon with kindness in his voice.

Lifting her left leg, placing her foot onto a hold, she reached up and grasped the green aboriginal. How or why she knew the names of such things escaped her but, just maybe, she’d actually taken in a few words from the instructional videos detailing how to climb up an indoor wall. All those years ago she’d laughed at the thought of traversing such a thing but, on her wedding day, that day of days, she’d made that promise to love, to hold, to remain faithful and, funnily enough, just once, to make it to the top of a climbing wall.

Of all the people in the world, in any country of the land, she never thought that she’d meet someone like him. He was kind, confident, relaxed, understanding and, above all, nothing like the bun wearing hipsters that seemed to wear skinny jeans these days. She’d seen a few in the crowd behind her but, as the thoughts marched into her mind, she threw them away as she had a promise to complete. With one last look around her, she noticed her grandson, standing looking proud at his Grandmother. He waved his hand while still holding onto his Teenage Militant Ninja Dolphin, or whatever it was called, which made her resolve strengthen.

She grasped the hold tighter and lifted herself from the ground placing her weight onto her foot. Bringing herself vertically level to the wall she placed her other foot onto the hold and smiled. Cheers escaped from the people behind her. Lifting a leg, it quickly found the next hold and, looking up, she reached for the next aboriginal. Sure, of course they’d made it very easy for her but what did she expect from her 74-year-old body. She, herself, expected to make it to the top no matter what happened.

Fear crept into her resolve and she felt that rising danger and her mind asked her to stop. Her leg moved, with a slight shake, but it found the next hold. The promise surfaced within her mind, reminding her, pushing her, ensuring that she carried on. Her hand moved, her legs moved and within seconds she’d moved up a few more sections. After this she was definitely going to treat herself to a small steak, possibly with some wine. A little wry smile appeared at the thought of wine, “Yes, wine would be a good thing!” she told herself.

Looking up she could see four more aboriginal holds to go. Legs moved and then there were two remaining. Once near the top she only had to touch the remaining sloper and it would all be over. So far, with all the commotion, it had all seemed to be a bit tiring but it would be worth it. Her mind flashed various images and, as she reached the final aboriginal, she knew that all she had to do was reach for the sloper. Her mind started to escape into the past, to him, to her late husband that had made her the happiest she’d ever been. Reaching up, inches left, she muttered the words, “This is for you!” Touching the sloper she closed her eyes and felt his warm kiss across her lips as she repeated the words, “This is for you. I made you a promise and I keep my promises!  I miss you dearly and still love you”.

She looked behind her, nodded and felt the rope remove all slack and she let go of the wall. Gently descending the tears escaped along with a great big beaming smile. The gathered people cheered as her feet found solid ground and, at long last, she’d completed the vows she’d made all those years previous.

Foolish Game

At first glance, when I try to redeem myself, I know that it may look quite bad but I never intended it to happen this way. I know that I'm already in love, entrusted to another, but these things just happen out of the blue. A stray look here, a glance there, the imagination wonders and it starts from nothing.

I'm faithful, always have been, always will be, but that little spark remains. We met one day, while out on a walk, her flowing hair and frame running clearly into view. I wouldn't say that it was love, lust, or other at first sight but, as is usually the case, there was something about her that immediately fascinated me.

That momentary second where your mind plays that game with you, life flashes in front of your eyes and before you know it you've rushed past the wild exotic love making, to calmly walking along the beach together, waltzing after a ball or Frisbee. Heck, in all honesty, we’d share food, drink crazily together and basically let life flow past at the speed of a whistle.

Her scent, natural, curled my senses, her walk, even that little growl she gave when I pushed my luck just that little bit. The mannerisms, her playful nature, it all seemed to entice and intrude into my daily life.

But, as I said, I have a duty.  I find that I sometimes walk into the garden to look across the street, to see if she’d appear into view.  She didn't. She never did. Only when we walked. Anyway, I'm not too sure why I'm telling you this as you wouldn't be able to help. I'm a Great Dane, a great big Grey mammoth of an animal and she, the lady in question, is a Corgi of heritage.

:)

You never know… Dogs might have the same thoughts as us!

What Do I Want?

I've been set an impossible task, a high wall to climb, an imaginary task filled with wonder and delicious delight. Come closer, bring forward your ear, as we’re about to discuss what I really, really… really want. With music blaring in the background setting the mood of things to come, I feel my heart start to pound with the possibilities and pondering purpose.  Here we go and along I come with all desires laid to rest.

I’d like to arrive at Monte Carlo drinking a fine wine that I actually like, respect and savour. The Port De Monaco, being a favoured destination, would be one of splendour and excitement. Wearing a fine suit, I’d feel that bit distinctive than my normal life, leaving behind a moderate Sunseeker Manhattan 48 boat. I’d have no idea of where to venture but simply walking through the lavish location would be enough to bring forward a smile.

Maybe I’d step into a designer 911 GT3 RS, wrapping my hands around the leather steering wheel, as the 4 litre engine purrs into life with a small growl that awakens the surrounding eyes that are already looking. With a small blip, a little taste, it moves forward asking to be driven to an inch of its 193mph top speed. I'm not stupid, admittedly a little scared and aware, that I might not be able to tame such a beast but if life isn't for trying then why try at all. There’s no leash around this neck, I've been set free, to explore, to taste, so if that’s the case, pour it straight and never stop. Leave nothing for chance. The paddle flips and off we go.

The trees fly past at the speed of which I've never experienced, life filled countryside, brave, alive, still prospering in all of the worldly chaos.  As much as I like excitement I still want to know that the world is being taken care of. As the world slides I notice long legs sitting to my side. They seem to travel for miles until they’re met by that wine red Herve Leger dress. You know the one. All legs. All waist. The slight hint of cleavage and a tempting knowing smile. Yeah, this is boys stuff right here. We’re on our way to who knows where and she’s along for every second of the ride. That’s what I want. Bring the excitement.

That’s just a taste of what’s inside this mind of mine. There’s a world within my world, contained, constrained, bubbling just beneath the surface waiting to escape even if it’s for the smallest of moments. Make it happen. Bring things to life.

Now, as we draw to the end, I'm asked another question of what I ‘need’. What do I need? Water, food, warmth, shelter and of course, company. When things are put into perspective I'm glad, thoroughly glad, that I have what I need and that’s good enough for me.

The rest of the world can wait.

Home is My Heart

Home is My Heart

The key turns and I close my eyes, listening, taking in the fact that I’ll never, ever, open the door again to what once was and might have been. They say, they really do, that ‘home is where your heart is’ but, after my day of days, I’m thinking that my home, my real home, is the very heart that I take with me.

Like that essential item, that toothbrush, those favourite shoes, maybe even that lip balm, it has to be with you or you always feel like something’s missing. Maybe something will always be missing and that fact, that very little snippet of information, is why I keep moving. Moving forward, ever onwards, maybe even possibly a positive progression. Who knows? I don’t. I don’t know… I only feel as the last moments of a locking key escape into the world.

With a turning back, with a glance away from the door, feet move and the path ahead is walked upon. I’m not scared, I’m not escaping, I’m on another adventure and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find another key and explore another map.

My home is wherever I smile. If you smile back… I might even stay for a while. After all… Bricks and stone may break my soul but my body will always protect my heart.

Make my home your heart.

Flames

The mirror, the ever expressive point blank preview of your own reflection, the reverse of what you present to the world, the portal into your very own little play book and script. With closed eyes we exhale, together, looking into the same mirror, trying to form or to feel a connection that’s been eluding our emotions for many a night. We’re, literally, figuratively, setting ourselves in fire with the eyes that we see each and every single day.

Eyes open, wide, as wide as they can see, mimicking eyes caught in the headlights taking in the very few seconds before the inevitable may, or may not, play from the scrapbook of life. We wish for another page, another story, the play to never end while stumbling to write. You look at yourself, not that deeply, not with any hunger, but with self-doubt and murmurs of unknown words.

The world within the mirror seethes, looks back at you with disdain, with discomfort, while your soul screams from within, wishing, wanting and bleating to be heard. Your image looks at your skin, your lips, as the mirror burns with flames of agony. What’s right, what isn't wrong, all the thoughts that spew forward from lips that should never be yours.

For a second you look down, wishing that you, instead, were somewhere else even if it were walking on fire. Burn your feet, scold your legs, but don’t, whatever you do, tarnish your face. A quick glance, a momentary shy flicker, with flames burning from the mirror, you return to where you once were. You recall what it was like to be a child, free of the burdens of life, safe, protected. For many that wasn't the case but, still, as are we all, our mirror self was seldom the strongest thought within a mind.

You lift your head, a bit higher than usual, gaining strength, fighting the demons and burning words and even manage a wry smile. The flames subside, they falter and flail, then die like a star in the sky. Substance, inner-glow, you know that that is worth more than another’s false words or thoughts. We are all born equally, more or less, yet selfishly defined by our outer skin. Let it go… embrace, breath life, caress hearts and forgo the banishment of self-doubt. We’re all beautiful despite what we've been told, despite how we've been brainwashed, regardless of freckles, colours, blemishes or lines.

A new flame appears surrounding the mirror, a flame of strength, purpose, made from your own inner love. You smile, the biggest smile you may ever have smiled as you believe that you’re amazing, that you’re not defined by the way you look and, as you walk away, you leave behind your reflection with its own inner misery.

Emotional Freedom

There are moments, solitary small nuggets, recursive seconds of illiterate thoughts of how my life used to be. Solitary, confined, sometimes refined to certain subjects and words of denial. You see, please understand, try to comprehend, that I used to be an emotional being.

Some would say that it’s a gift, a special happening, a deal struck with angels, to be such a person but, to me, it was like being trapped within a prison of self-made hell. I'm not alone, despite what I used to think, considering how I felt, that I'm not actually the only person within this world that could possibly, ever, realise how I was feeling or thought. I could be sarcastic, even ridicule myself for the fashion with which I used to lead my daily life but, on second thoughts, with a few seconds of that thought, I’d rather show myself compassion and warmth.

You see, as an emotional being, you’re trapped within your own mind, with withering temporal thoughts, stuck in a recursive frame of mind. ‘I can’t’, ‘It won’t work’, ‘No-one understands’, ‘Why can’t…’ become the words you use every single solitary day. You reach but fail to grasp, you hide but scream for help, you breath but feel like you’re about to die and struggle to lift your head.

I can recall many times where I destroyed the very thing I reached for, longed for, reacted to and desired. You see, to me, maybe to you, holding someone within my very arms was supposed to cure my affliction, resolve my wretched mind, calm the heart that juggled my life and day. It didn't, it wouldn't and it never could.

Once more, again keep up, I realised that no solitary single figure within this world and the next, not one, could ever pacify my longing, my emotional graving, the desire and need. No amount of flesh or passion, no number of kisses or caresses, the whispers of another while darkness surrounded the both of us, could ever, never, hold the emotional mountain that existed inside.

So, after all of the blathering, when the words have been written, the expressions passed from I to you, what’s the answer? Well, in all honesty, we all have different answers but like so many moments in life… YOU and you alone hold the answer to your happiness. I realised that my heart could never be held by another. My warmth couldn't possibly be caressed from someone else, as it had to come from within my very own being. You and you only have the heart, the health, the energy and aura to calm your own heart.

I finally understood that sharing emotional turmoil with another, asking them to somehow help, was not the answer and eventually destroyed relationships. How can someone who’s free help with your own inner emotional stability? We repeat, repeat, repeat and repeat with the same results. Hold your own heart, calm your own voice and tell the voices to retreat. You can. You will. You must. Emotions do not control you as YOU control your emotions.

It might be easy to say, take a few moments to write, but emotional freedom is wondrous, a magical empathic journey where your mind and heart no longer torture your soul. The quiet within, the understanding for the world outside, is a gift that must be earned or at least understood.

Explore, digest, disregard, understand and enjoy emotion. Once you have your feelings under control the world becomes a better place and, under the right circumstances, you can let your emotions fly and everyone around you will smile.