The ‘Word’

Its a early hours in the morning kind of blog again. This time its not because I am bipolar and cannot sleep. It is not because I have had my heart or mind ripped out of me again. This time its simply because….

 

I sit on a corner unit settee, with a marvel t-shirt on and pj bottoms. I sit with my hair scraped back and the lights out. From my macbook the only light illuminates. Unless i look out of the windows, which are straight ahead and i see the sky. Little pinheads of light looking down on me. The night owl that i am, i have become quite acustom to the stars and only really like the setting sun. My daughter is asleep, my lover too. And i lay tapping on my keys, passionatley as if i have something worth telling to anybody else. Or maybe its just good to tap it out for myself. I turned 29 today. I felt a depressing cloud hang over me all day, like the opaque grey cloud that blanketed the sky today. I didn’t cry, though i felt like i wanted too…. but watching the rain slide down the windows of today, i decided against descending into a full depression. I had a friend over, and visited my dad, i waited for my lover to return and only then did i feel at peace.

I haven’t had full blown anxiety in such a long while. But today it was the restless uncomfortable kind of anxiety. I traded uni work to curl on the settee around this man, this man who I am so scared to love. But even more scared that one day, soon. He may stop loving me. He may stop smiling at the thought of me, or even start smiling at the thought of someone else. Being damaged is a terrible thing. As you are gifted a complex you never wanted, and never thought of before. Now every little thing becomes a conscious thought of over analysising actions, tones, interpretations and words. Not realising before this complex you wear as normal as your own skin, what it was like to never even think of such little trial things. But now i do, I watch his phone, and even though its given to me freely i still feel somewhat uneasy. Thats the complex someone gave me, where their phone was a portal to be protected and guarded as it carried on it another life. I watch the way in which he turns when his phone beeps, but i find no flicker or insecurity. That soothes me, but it will be a scar i always carry with me, its now a damaged part of me. I could say i do not care and live free and for the moment. But to protect ones self from danger is instinct so now i act on instinct and not free affection and trust. Someone changed me in a way i will never be the same.

 

I have no doubt that one day i will not be young and beautiful and neither do i want to be forever. But one day when i no longer taste good t that persons palette what happens then.  As i have been a flavour a option for another man. I have been discarded like i was a ten year old newspaper. I have been praised and reeled in thinking ‘this is it’ I have then been left for somebody else. I have died in ways i didn’t know a soul could die, i have been hurt in ways i never knew a heart could sustain. I have believed when he apologised and i have believed when he said he’ll change. I have been violently awoken to a reality where no matter how good i was, or how well i obeyed, how faithful i stayed how loyal i remained. I was still condemned in another way. I still got betrayed. I was never good enough, i was never quick enough to catch him out. I was never understanding enough even after countless girls and a wasted three years, and now a therapy plan. The scars i have been left with are as much a part of my skin as the scars i often myself carve in.

Now, i have a guy who i forgot existed in this world. I thought hey were extinct. He bought me flowers – because he wanted too….. not because guilt had caused him too. He sends me text messages telling me how happy he is, or how much he adores me… not because he was messaging another girl at the same time on whatsapp and didn’t want me to get suspicious. He grabs me and kisses my forehead….. his arms wrap around me in a protective embrace. I don’t imagine his arms to hold me in any other way, than to protect me.  When i lay in bed with him he tickles my arm… or slings his arm around me in the middle of the night and like a bear pulls me in. Half asleep i smile… as even in his sleep he wants me near. He needs me for nothing, his ego is fine, his issues are almost non existence. He is a man with experience and with the most integrity i have ever known a man or human to have. He has emotions real ones, i can see and i can feel. He makes such a effort to make me feel safe, just encase i don’t. When all i need him to know, is that i have never felt safer. I wake every day counting down the hours till i can see him, not because i want to know where he is, or who he is messaging, or watch his every move. I just want him by me as we laugh, and we smile and he touches me and hugs me out of the blue. To watch a film and rest my head in his lap, my hair is where his fingers touch, i haven’t told him but its my favourite thing. I do not care for what girl he speaks to, or what girl he tattoos what girl he works with….. because they pose no threat. As he makes me feel he loves me, his word his promise isn’t tainted.

 

A man is only worth as much as his word

And this man has kept every word, every promise he has made to me. Every word or rhyme i write, however painful it was to write. He hasn’t got to read it to understand the meaning. He can read it in my eyes, with a doubtful glance or a inquisitive look. He understands that there is something more to me. He never asks and i shall never tell. But he pays such close attention he knows me beautifully well. He has seen a glint of my anger but it phases him none. He has seen me down, and it affects him none, He has seen me happy and high, and it phases him none. As long as I’m safe he will take me anyway. But i often wonder about the ‘one day’ when maybe i am a bit too much, when maybe love is not enough, when maybe i won’t do anymore, when maybe he sees all my good points as flaws… as these are the things that have happened to me before. Maybe i think too much, maybe i should just close my mac and creep over to bed and wrap his arms around me. Then I’m safe…. then everything is ok. Maybe i should run over and wake him with lots of kisses and tell him about this idea for a photoshoot….. and i know he will wake, and sleepily listen and agree or disagree or even encourage me a little bit more…. maybe he would grab me and tell me amazing like he has a million times, that he’s never met a girl so multi talented and beautiful and smart and funny, and independent and caring and quirky…brave and loyal…..He tells me how lucky he feels…. to have me… yet I don’t think he realises exactly what my life was before him. But then neither do i fully want him too…as because if he does thats all he may ever see…. a real damaged lost part of me.

I was told a few days ago ‘A piece of your heart has been carved out, its gone it will never return, and that hole thats gone it will forever hurt… but not because it makes you sad, but because it makes you feel lost, and incomplete’  This woman was a medium and she was right…..

But what if a soul mate mends your broken heart by simply giving you theirs…… Tomorrow i wake next to him, and we engrave each other with what we mark our body’s with best. He’s engraving my favourite portrait on my arm and poem on my thigh, and when he has finished…. he’s engraving his mark on me, as i asked him and he said only if he can wear a mark too. Thats when i thought he was too good to be true. But i won’t tell him that just yet…..

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s