They Say...

Clichés. The world is full of them and I dislike them for more than just the fact they are overused (and yet have a massively irritating way of creeping into my writing and my mind). I also dislike them because, frankly, they’re not always true. In fact… the people who wander around my thoughts during the day prove many of them entirely inaccurate:

Blood is Thicker than Water

They say blood is thicker than water… in some way trying to devalue ties not born of DNA. But when I look at him and her, when I watch her cuddle him to sleep, listen to her read him stories, listen to him recall his day to her as they sit gazing out of the window, I know that biology is the smallest part of the equation of parental love.

Blood may be thicker than water – but it is not thicker than love. Blood stains, but it doesn’t stick around as long as an unconditional and eternal love for someone.

DNA won’t keep him warm at night. Genes won’t keep him feeling safe. Love will do that.

All’s Fair in Love and War

They say that all is fair in love and war. Tell that to the orphan weeping over the bloodied corpse of his Father – a man murdered by weapons far bigger than he, fired for reasons far bigger than he can comprehend. A war was waged against the men in power but that wipes out the men on the street.

They say that all is fair in love and war. Tell that to those who lost a love, whose heart never recovered and who were never quite able to fully give their heart to another.

 

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So perhaps, then, they haven’t read hers. Because the prettiest pictures are penned using just 26 different letters and raw emotion. They choose her, the words. She doesn’t necessarily choose them. I know that. I see that. I feel that. Yet those pictures penned of vowels and consonants, free of paint, free of oils, free of pastels, chalks and pencil lines, they create some of the finest art you will ever see.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So perhaps then, they haven’t read hers.

All’s Well that Ends Well

They say that all’s well that ends well. But just because loose ends were tied up doesn’t mean the knots were ever removed from the middle. Picking up the smashed pieces doesn’t put them back together again.

A happy ending is indeed desirable. But sometimes so much has been damaged during the event that all you can do is look forward… clean up what you can and leave what was to weather away.

Lightening Never Strikes Twice in the Same Place

It does. Or sometimes three times. Or sometimes even four times.

All you can do is douse the flames, repaint and carry on.

Looking Forwards

There’s so much here to gain,

That tonight I stand and choose,

To love and learn and live again,

Not fear what I may lose.

We spend so much of our lives worrying about what we might lose. Well, ok, I do. Too many years of looking backwards in self-pity at a shitty deal that saw me lose a Father at 5 and a Mother in my early 20s… too many years of doing that led to a real sense of bitterness and “oh aren’t I hard done by?”

At the risk of sounding like a whiney ass here, it does seem like bad luck… just as I was getting over my parents, I lost the Mother of my son and little over a year on, one of my closest friends.

Losing the Mother of my son set me back. Majorly. I did the whole push the world out thing and used those closest to me as verbal whipping posts, venting my fury with some nasty, toxic words.

But I’ve learnt, in the past year, the art of looking forwards, rather than gazing backwards and looking longingly for familiar faces I can no longer see.

When I got married last month, I promised my wife I would only ever look forwards – forwards at the amazing life we have built for ourselves.

She made a good point;

“You won’t always look forwards. Everybody looks back from time to time. I just need you to promise me you will let me in and tell me how you’re feeling.”

She’s right. There will probably always be days I think about those I can’t touch or hear anymore. But she just needs to know about it…. And I just need to make sure that the odd glance back does not consume my thoughts. I have too much to look forward to.

My daughter will be born in 3 months.

Oh my God… how terrifying is that? And awesome at the same time!

My son is the happiest he has ever been. He’s taking the joy out of every single day. His wounds have healed. They scarred… but they don’t hurt anymore. In fact, most days he hardly notices they’re there. On some days they tingle, but he handles it well.

He misses his Mother terribly. But he, the fine example that he is, has picked the pieces up and is trudging on with his life and enjoying every single moment of it. He’s an inspiration of a little boy. In fact, right now he is with my Sister and nephew outside jumping in puddles. That’s really all they are doing. We bought him some new wellies when we moved out of the city and he’s been waiting for a weekend as rainy as this one has been to just go out jumping in puddles. Forget Playstations, Wiis, TV and all that material crap… he’s happiest playing in puddles. Just how it should be, right?

Humans are resilient when they choose to be. We’re not as fragile as we sometimes allow ourselves to think we are.

Anyhow, that’s enough of the deep thinking for me for one day. I’m off to jump in puddles too…

Words

Wrongs and rights
Are lost in fights
Where words become
Our weapons.

Words now penned,
It’s best to spend
This venom
While alone.

No more will I
Spit words in spite.
Stoop to defensive level,
Take such a gift
As that of words
And use it as the devil.

Adorned in White

Emerging adorned in the purest white
To take the sting from the fiercest night.
She who sang my heart away
To dream filled sleep in my childhood days,
Now fills my dreams, by the river
Adorned in white, angelic figure.

Whisper away the dark and pain,
And sing a song to clear the rain.

Angel of the night.

My Wife

Joined, we two, in love,

By choice.

Two bodies, hearts and souls,

One voice.

Singing from the same

Song sheet,

Joined, in love, we can

Defeat

Most anything that comes

Our way

Come rain, or storms,

My heart will stay

My love, my smile, my joy

My life

My raison d’etre, friend,

And wife.

The Angel and the Broken Hearted Man

Once upon a time, was a man with a heart so broken that he was unable to believe in the “epic love.” He would not allow anyone to see the whole of his heart for fear that if they saw the cracks, the scratches and the bruises, perhaps they would flee.

Nobody wants to deal with the scarred, after all.

And so his relationships were shallow. They rarely advanced beyond the physical and he would not connect on a matters-of-the-heart level with anyone. Ever.

Until he met her.

She, the Angel who knew more of matters of the heart than anyone else he had ever met. He proceeded with caution. Everything within told him it was too dangerous to go too far beyond a ‘hello,’ or a ‘hi there,’ from time to time. But, unusually, he was guided by his battered heart and his head took a back seat.

The Angel was already spoken for, however. This was a health boundary, he felt. This made it safe to befriend the Angel.

One weekend, as he prepared for a trip, the Angel got in touch. Unusually, she was saddened. He of heart so broken recognised the symptoms immediately. Her heart was aching. He wanted to stay with her and hold her more than he had ever wanted to comfort anyone before but could not. His other commitments made that impossible.

“I have to go,” he told her, “But I will be back.”

He checked in on her as many times as he could over the weekend. Her heart was still aching. He knew that. But he had a funny feeling that it ached less when they were together. And funnily enough, his own battered heart ached less when he was with her too.

The man of battered heart and the Angel began a relationship that was, by any standard, beautiful. They connected on every level and explored emotions within one another that neither had even realised they possessed.

It was almost perfect.

But the broken hearted man was holding back. He was only showing her the good parts of his heart. True, though it was, that the longer he spent around the Angel, the more his heart healed and he then had more of the good parts to share and show. But he kept dark secrets about just how badly bruised the broken bits were and for fear that she would see the cracks and run from him, he told her not of the bruises he hid.

Many months into their beautiful journey, the battered hearted man lost a friend. A special and close friend. And the loss tore open wounds on his heart that he thought had healed a long time before. Anger raged violently within his heart and suddenly, all of the scars and wounds he did not want the Angel to see were visible. He did not want her to see – and so he raged and pushed her away and removed himself emotionally from her.

The Angel was hurt. She tried to find a way back into him but the harder she tried, the more the broken hearted man pushed her away. His heart was still too raw to let her in again.

He lost the Angel. He lost her friendship too. But as he came to terms with that, the lessons he learned through the pain of her loss helped to heal his heart a little. And a little more.

The battered hearted man and the Angel no longer spoke. But he thought of her and hoped that she was happy, wherever she was and whoever she was with.

The broken hearted man met a beautiful woman some time after the loss. He fell in love and married her... He takes the lessons from his previous loss and knows now not to hide wounds of the heart. His wife sees the scars. He does not push people away anymore.

He still thinks of the Angel. He still gratefully looks back upon the lessons their time together taught him and he no longer angrily denies any feelings he once had for her.

The battered hearted man is no longer a battered hearted man. He carries scars, yes. But he does not hide them. He’s happy, a family man whose real satisfaction in life comes from the simple things. He’s dealt with his regrets and wishes now only one thing: That the Angel too finds her happily ever after.

Because if anyone deserves it, she does.

To Be Married

Tomorrow morning I will fly out to Cuba with my wife to be, our son, our friends and families. In a few days I will be married and our friends and family will fly back to let us enjoy a honeymoon on the beautiful island.

I’ve never been as excited about anything in my life. Nor has our little boy, who has been staring at his Pageboy outfit asking if he can try it on again for about a week.

Thank you to all who have sent messages here, through email and through Second Life wishing me the best. I really do appreciate it.

I’ll be back in a couple of weeks as a married man : )