Going, going, ever gone?

Decisions.

Decisions, she said, are we making the right ones or the wrong ones at any given time? Sometimes I feel I've chosen the worst possible path, failed at every turn, hurt people, lost people, and yet end up somewhere better than I had ever hoped for. And sometimes when I make simple choices, the ones no one really ever thinks twice about, it brings about this pain, this heartache, this regret, and I know I should've chosen something else.

I miss her face, but when I see it, it's this still frame from the past. A fake. I look at her and I know her, but she doesn't know me anymore, and never will. It's a shame, because even if I've turned out different because of it, I would've liked her to be here, to see it.

When I get married. When I have kids. When I sing. When I get wiser to the things around me. I wanted to share that with someone who wouldn't ever leave because they were scared, or because they wanted to. Unconditional love only really comes from a rare handful of people in your life. I fear I've lost mine.

So decisions, wrong or right?

It's always both.

She told me so.

Not The Way I See It

We are this downbeat generation. And there's your only explanation for how we treat each other - gun down and beat each other to within and inch of our lives and no one bats an eye. And those of us who are still fine? Well we must believe in some divine power. But that doesn't really matter because as we listen to the drone and moan of our leaders, we realise they don't really need us. But after all, it's alright. We only live until we die.

Today I Know

Today I know how Alice felt as she sat among the long grass and heard the flowers sing. The blades of grass glimmer as the sun beats down upon them and they dance relentlessly in the light breeze.

As I sit among it, feeling content and peaceful, I know that I'm witnessing what must be one of the most beautiful things on earth. It's a kind of poetry.

Each pause between the songs on my ipod is filled with wondrous bird song and eventually I turn off the music all together and just listen. I do wonder what they're singing about and whether they'd mind me joining in.

The breeze starts to ripple across the field and suddenly I yearn for the ocean, for the waves and the spray of the water as I stand on the shore, wondering if I'm brave enough to dip my toes.

I start to wonder, what are my dreams? I know his and hers and yours and how they all are similar to mine. Maybe we all have dreams in common, or maybe over time you've all influenced me.

My dream is this - to sit in the sunshine and be well and able to say what I want and do what I want. I want good wine and food and days spent in good company, in friendship and in love. And in the end I want to grow old, I really do, and by my side I want someone who I know very well. Someone who I know just as well as they know me. And so when they're gone, I won't mind so much because we'll have left behind us a trail of memories that will warm my soul if ever I get lonely.

I don't know when these things will happen, or whether some have already begun. I can't wait to look back and be able to know who I am and who I was. It all starts here, among the long grass and birds, with the sun shining down through the wispy feathers that cloud the sky.

Things Beginning With B

I remember the first time I thought she was beautiful. It wasn’t the first time I met her, for I don’t think beauty can be determined in such a brief time. No, the first time I thought she was beautiful was when she sat next to me one day. There were lots of us and we all had drinks and smiles on our faces, but it was only her smile that caught my eye. I admired the truth in it and the way it spilled over from her lips to her cheeks and to her eyes and her body. It engulfed her, and me with it.

When her smile went away, you couldn’t even suspect the kind of way it could captivate you. When her smile went away, there was a different kind of beauty altogether.

“Here.” She handed me a drink and stood beside me.

“Thank you.”

I had offered to get the first round, and so had she, and somehow she’d now managed to buy the second round as well. She was persuasive like that, and however much I wanted to think it a sly act, I knew it was kind hearted.

            I wanted to be alone with her, twirl her round the floor in a poor attempt at dancing and kiss her. The music was so loud that to talk I’d put one had on the back of her neck, pull her close to me, my lips brushing her ear, and even then we just nodded and smiled.

            I felt like I knew her now. Not completely- I’m not sure that ever happens- but some. There is this thing I do every time I'm with her, and I sometimes get so distracted by it that I end up not saying anything for a long time. Every time I see her, I take note of the things I've learnt, to remind myself that they're still there. At first it was her smile, her eyes, her hand in mine, her voice. And now it's her character, her laugh, her morals, and the depth of her thoughts.
           Whoever it was that said beauty is only skin deep, I think they must’ve lived a very fast paced life. I live slowly, learn slowly, and get to know people slowly, and with that comes a different kind of understanding.

            I understand what I see in front of me. I understand what is hidden under the surface. I understand the way I feel. And most of all, when I look at her, I understand how much more there is to know.

I found an eyelash on my cheek that night and made a wish. I can’t tell you what it was. But tonight I saw a shooting star, and made another.

Now every time I make a wish, I will wish that you all find the kind of beauty that I have come to know.

Gloaming

It's getting dark early again.

I'm one of those unfortunate people who's mood is influenced and swayed with the world and all it's ways. When the sun shines I get up early and go outside, just to be caressed by the warmth for as long as I can. I used to imagine my happiness was solar powered in that sense; the more I could soak up, the longer I would feel giddy and on top of the world.

Then the sun would make other friends on the other side of the planet and forget about me. I'd see less and less of her. My days would start in the afternoon and by nine at night I'd want to slink into my covers, longing for the encompassing rays of normality. I'd sip my hot tea with too much gusto, as if I could close my eyes and pretend the sun was heating me from the inside out. But every time I opened my eyes again, I was reminded it was just water and far too much sugar.

The days are shortening again now. I await the sinking feeling, but it doesn't come. Is it running late? Is it masquerading itself? I search a while, I don't know why, and find nothing. My smile remains right through the day, from my waking alarm to my very last thought and beyond, into sleep. I've started to hunger for gloaming, where the light dips but the mood remains the same and the people take charge of conversation, with animated smiles attached to each name.

I guess the world and all it's ways aren't as influential as they once were. Either that or I'm no longer a child who can be so easily reigned.

Gremlins

“He’s not here yet.”

“He will be.”

I breathed heavily, in and out, trying to stay calm. “What if he doesn’t show up?”

“Don’t panic, he will, and I’m very excited for you.”

I turned around on the spot, trying to see across the square, towards where all the busses got in and the crowds heaved and pulsed. I looked up and into the dull yellow glow of the streetlight.

“Hello,” came a voice and I looked down, my eyes catching an almost familiar face.

“He’s here gotta go,” I said all at once and hung up the phone. I breathed one last calming breath. “Hi!” Coulda said something more poetic for a start, but it’ll do.

He came towards me and gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek. It lingered and I did too, in the warmth of his being.

The stark contrast when we went inside was a relief. The blustering winds and rain ceased and I could smell mulled wine and chips. The whole place was dark, but not dark and dingy, just dark- romantic even. There were some people at the far end watching Gremlins on a pull down screen, and he bought the drinks and we sat nowhere near them. It was peaceful being near the water on this little boat and we talked about nothing and everything and I tried to remember it all.

When he looked away I would look at him- try to take in his face, his eyes, his hands and lips- then he’d look back and I would look away.

Damn this being shy business, it’s too much effort. I kept checking my phone for the time, couldn’t miss my bus, and I felt rude taking my eyes off him even for a few seconds. We did the same thing all evening, talking and drinking just in different places and I stopped checking the time for a while.

I did have to go in the end, and left half a cider that I would have much rather finished, or at least used as an excuse to sit a while longer in the warmth of good conversation. 

The Day I Met Her

I met The Girl on my way home tonight. She walked along with me at the same pace, but her posture was different. She extended herself outwards and then slouched her shoulders back into herself again, as if at times she forgot the cold.

The wind blew fierce in our faces but I was the only one who felt it. I huddled close to the fur of my coat and put my hands in my pocket for warmth. The Girl did the same. As we emerged into the yellow glare of the next street light she lagged behind. Perhaps she was staring up at the smoggy glow, like me, watching the rain as it fell earthbound.

By the time I reached the park, which engulfed me in it's darkness, The Girl had gone. She hadn't said goodbye, nor told me her name or shown me her face. I walked on, ignorant and blissful. Home was nearby and I could already hear the kettle boiling. I didn't mind leaving her behind. We would meet again tomorrow on my long walk home, and her feet would stick to mine. It's almost like we are one and the same, but we're not. For she is she and I am merely I.