Yogi Knows

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You won’t realise the gravity behind when I thank you. Unless my face shows more than I know, but even then, you won’t know the history or the reasons behind my gaze. You have provided me therapy for the last few years, every week – solitude in one hour with strangers and your instruction. You are reliable. It’s more than what you say. It’s turning up each week with something new and interesting for us to fall into step with; completely losing ourselves with your guidance. Sometimes I feel so heavy in my heart with emotion, freedom, to release. Sometimes I lose myself under your words and I secretly let fueled tears burst from the sides of my eyes hoping you won’t see me and worry I am not okay. But, I am. I am more okay in that room of practice because of what you teach. My chest rises with the breath you give us. You have saved me these past years.

Your dedication is admirable and inspirational. The effort you put in to learn and be a master is a character trait rare to come across in some worlds. I enjoy from you the passion for routine and rhythm, and I share your energy.  That comes across powerfully from you – in a good way. In a stable and amazing way. To conduct a whole room of people how you do, with authority but friendliness and kindness as well, is a wonderful gift. I trust you. We trust you. You show us other ways, in mind and laughter.

When hearing of your new chapter I am reminded of a mandala illustrating the circles of life. Not the big circle, the smaller ones within our own life stories sometimes overlapping to create a beautiful new shade of colour, like in a venn diagram. How I can enter your arena in a difficult time for me facing my own challenges of love and personal development; and here we are drawing another circle, taking another turn, yet we are more in peace with each-other’s movements. We have crossed over to a new formation and created another balance which can’t fall down because the mat slips away; memories can’t be erased because the room gets bigger, the distance greater. Memories can only fade with time, but the body will always be thankful and store the sounds of early mornings on the white rocks overlooking the sun rise and the clinging of another glass celebrating a day lifting feet to sky. The sound of your voice is the one I hear asking me to forgive, to relax, and let everything go. I am so grateful for you creating another circle in my soul to help me always find home again, and in that moment I am sent to my inner quiet waka floating to the gods of the misty clouds.

Stuck

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Stuck. Utterly, utterly stuck. Someone else holds the cards.

You are the Trump of the heart; incapable, ill-equipped, uncaring, full of misplaced knowledge, power, control and a position you do not deserve to be in. How on earth does this happen?

Why didn’t you stay as you were and not try and be an adult? You are the definition of a ‘man child’. You never fully developed, nor did you seek to. Yet you hooked onto me and tried to pretend you had. You have wasted 7 years of my life.

You should not be in a relationship, you should stay single forever. Don’t damage anyone else. ‘Work’, pay for sex, carry on. How can you be so detached, literal, basic? I really thought you had something different to offer. You clearly did, nothing good though.
Some mistakes are hard to recover from.

The Pain, Of Starting Again.

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What is step 1?

Where do I go from here?

You can understand that once you made a mistake, a bad choice, an error of judgement – blame it on youth, naivety, a need to get away from your home.

But this? How? How could you make such a big decision, poorly, twice.

It is indescribably disruptive, affecting. Like a poison. You, and this situation has bled into my life; changing the contours of my thoughts, feelings, fun, friendships, work, big decisions, small decisions. The doubt you have created in me has rocked me to my centre.

How did I let this happen?

You are a good actor. Copying others, pretending you knew how to love, how to share, how to express, how to care. Yet so little of what you acted was true, if any. That’s what your condition does to you. The article said you’re incapable of loving, showing care, empathy. You simply don’t have these things in you. Yet I am brimming with all. An abundance, maybe why you were so attracted.

I am hollow, you have left me utterly bare. Empty. I thought you, me, us, was my success story. That I could have a happy marriage. Second time lucky. Surely, it couldn’t go wrong twice?

Apparently not. You made me ill, you made me contemplate leaving here forever. You pushed me to the brink and beyond. You will never know how hard you are to be around.

How I tried everything to make you happy. Too much. You took all of me. There is very little left. I am running on air, fumes.

Leave me be and let’s move on.

Online Dating

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“Just put yourself out there” my friends say. Where exactly is out there? On the internet apparently. Out there for everyone to see, judge, click, swipe, wave, poke and text. I now have a few photos and a few paragraphs on a dating app that hopefully tells enough about me but not too much because let’s face it, there’s weirdos “out there”.

I’ve attempted app dating twice before but never lasted more than a week or two. Main reasons were that I only matched with a couple of people and the ones I did match with we didn’t get a conversation off the ground. I mean what do you say to a complete stranger? Someone who has a few bullet points and a cute quote on their file. I need to back up though, before you get to the file, you see their photo.

My friend asked me “what’s your type?” She was referring to looks. Typically, I would say clean shaven, taller than me, Caucasian, looks after himself (no crazy muscle pumping) and an incredible smile (very important feature). However, the last 2 guys I’ve had crushes on in the real world, neither of them were Caucasian, one of them had a beard and the other one carried a couple extra kilos. Why did I have a crush on them? It’s because I got to know them in my natural environment bit by bit learning about their personalities, humour, values, talents and ambitions. They are both good looking and the above listed traits made them more attractive. It’s so hard not to make snap judgements by a photo when I know there is so much more to it than looks.

In my first 24 hours I received 14 “waves”. Men letting me know that they have seen my photo (I assume they have read my profile) and they want to start chatting. 10/14 look like serial killers. I wish I was joking however I’m not exaggerating.

After 4 days I found out it’s not a free app and made the decision to pay for a month. Not ideal but feel like I need to give it a proper go. A month is a long time to me when I feel like I’m wasting my time scrolling through mug shots (many of which don’t live near me) and fearful of starting awkward chit chat.

I took the plunge and started 2 conversations with guys who waved at me. I chose 2 guys that don’t look like stalkers and focused on a common interest. Travel. It’s definitely the easiest thing for me to talk about without getting too personal too soon. I really don’t know where the conversation is meant to go next so maybe there will be a chapter 2 of this blog post.

Why am I persisting? More and more I’m hearing “we met through internet dating”. So, I better get on the internet and push through the awkward texting and hopefully it transfers into an interesting conversation with a real man.

Tragic Love

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I still suffer for you every day. My heart aches for your embrace, your kindness, and your warmth. I am robbed of our love, the happiness we shared. You took that away from us although rightly so at the time. And I am still angry at you for how you treated me. How we were – so foolishly caught up in the storm. You saved me from myself and my past, most of it at least, but you left me with new scars. Scars directly on my heart and in my memory. It’s been eight months now and I am still healing the wounds. How long will it take? I thought it would be over now, or at least starting to fade.

Everything thus far has been right, even though it’s been tough. What does the future hold? Do you think of me as much as I still think of you? I felt what I can only imagine as mother’s pain watching you from afar, struggle with your loss of freedom and success. Feeling your hand gently reaching out for a hug but knowing I could not come to you. I could not come to you because you don’t get to call the shots like that anymore. You don’t get to decide when to come into my life and turn it upside down. You don’t get to, I told you I won’t let you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t hurt from it. The days before and morning of. I just have stronger shoes to keep me still.

Have you met someone new? Are you replying to my note because you feel like you should, the way you felt for the other girls who still messaged? Or is my inclination at least partially true and you reply because there’s a part of you that is trapped with me too?

Magic but tragic, is what we said. And now, I am surrounded by magic each day that I create. But I still have this tragic love for you, so tragic that I can’t endure the thought of anyone else. I hold on to your last kiss from when you let me go. The last kiss that said you’ll see me later, but hell what have we done since then. We both clearly had some work to do, and I wonder – is that work that will see us together again or work that is sending us farther apart? I am stuck in this holding ground unable to move on, and I am tortured by not knowing where you stand. How can I move on if there’s the smallest glimmer of hope? One year on, I tell myself. After one year on I should start to pressure myself forward, or forever be stuck in this trap you’re holding me in. Much like your mam, I could cry at the thought of longing for your love. For hers, for your father – the story of tragic love.

Jewellery Graveyard

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Such beautiful pieces, once so cherished. Now stare back at me, little tokens of failures. Sometimes they are always waving, laughing, jesting.

That little place in Greece, the vintage place near our old home, the characters who run it, the walk we took on our last night of that first holiday.

Memories of where these little symbols of love were gifted and collected and treated. A whole fucking box of memories. Elderly loved ones who have passed on and left colourful gems to be remembered by. Even a bracelet my Dad gave my Mum when they were young, they’re not together anymore, yet the metal lives on. A subtle and constant reminder of a love in days gone by.

We can sort the legal bit and go our separate ways, the emotional side will scar for sure. But I’m left with these metal circles and shiny bits, supposedly everlasting with eternal shapes. For they remind me of you, of what we signed up for. Our contract of love was supposed to last so much longer than this. I thought I would wear those rings forever. Our little secret wedding, just for us. ‘Mutual weirdness forever’. That was the contract, that is what we agreed.

But now I am left with this jewellery graveyard. Too loaded to re-home, too precious to part with, yet will never be worn again and are of no value to anyone else. A last blast of defiance; a man will never buy me jewellery again, I will buy my own from now on, then we will never have to do this again.

You will be moved soon, for I can’t look at you each day, it’s a cycle that makes me so sad. For now, that is how it has to be.

Tip of My Tongue; Just Out of Reach

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This evening I was driving home from a dears friends house. My mind started wandering and suddenly it hit me. The word I have been struggling to find for a few weeks, it’s been on the tip of my tongue, just out of reach. When people ask how you are but you can’t articulate it or find the right words. Now I know.

Denied.

I feel denied. Denied a happy relationship. Denied an adult relationship. Denied the opportunity for my loving to have been worth something. Denied the chance to create a cosy new home together. Denied the future that I thought might have been possible. Denied a successful relationship. All the denied. All of the time.

When the word landed in my brain, I cried, like an animal, it wasn’t even a ‘normal’ cry. It was a noise. Maybe a howl. There is an absolutely stunning moon tonight, perhaps that is why.

I don’t often cry at maybe the more ‘usual’ things. I cry when I am sad and can’t work out why, I cry when I am tired or hormonal. But mostly, I cry when I am so filled with joy that my body just starts to leak from my eyes; when I am touched. At beautiful things. But tonight I cried a desperate, heart-breaking animal cry. It was sheer pain and hurt.

I feel totally denied of all that I thought my relationship could be, would be, might be, on a good day, if he was in a good mood…

I am so angry and sad and feel so cheated.

This is what I have been struggling to put my finger on. What the hell do I do next?

You Can’t Have Us Both

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“I’m keeping my guard up, because you let me down. But you can’t blame that I wasn’t always around. I’m keeping my guard up, because you were the one to run away…”  – Ziggy Alberts

I’m here, thinking about you always. You drive me absolutely wild. I hate you, at the same time. Our relationship is so fragile, I am so fragile. Still… It’s been four months now and I’m here being me, being the person I aspire to be, and want to be; I’m here and I’m only going onwards. You don’t get to come back in. You don’t. You don’t. Stay away.

Go and be with her – with anyone else, if you want to. I will be here for you always, but you can’t have it both. I don’t trust you not to hurt me again. I still hurt by not having your love. I was in such a good place before you interrupted me again. Stay out. Go away. You can’t message us both.

I’m keeping my guard up because you still drive me wild.

I’ll be here when you’re ready.

 

 

Happy Birthday

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Happy birthday beautiful!

I wish so much I could click my fingers, open my eyes and be with you. With the winter behind us and the arrival of spring we could find a nice spot in the park where the sun falls softly on us and the first blue bells in the grass.

Reminiscing of past adventures we realise turning one year older isn’t all that bad. Another year with love and friendship like ours is plenty of reason to celebrate. Like any good adventure story there’s triumph’s and falls, heroes and villains, romance and heartbreak. Let your new chapter begin! I believe the best is yet to come.

On this birthday may you feel steadiness in the waves of life and comfort in your spirit knowing Jesus loves you and so do I.

I look forward to the day we sit on the grass for real. That thought alone fills me with joy.

You’re a treasure.

Thank you for being you and giving all you have.

Enjoy your day. Your birthday!

I Am Nothing But Something To You

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I am nothing to you until I have children. Sometimes you make me feel like a chore. Is this the world you want for me? No wonder I could feel objectified, because that’s how you are with me. Cart me round in your fantasy but without actually seeing me. You know very little about who I am, how fragile I can be. You don’t see it, all you see is your own views of me.

You don’t encourage me when I tell you I want to do something big, you tell me it’s a lot of work and money. Yet, if my brother or boyfriend want to, then they get your support? Why? Because all you want me to do is have children so that you can be a grandma and tell all your friends that your story is complete. Well guess what? Fuck your fantasies and start listening to me, to mine.

Dare I dream of a world where I can come run crying to you, for that would be a killing hope. I learnt very young that you don’t know how to hold me. You wonder how I can be so dismissive towards you – it’s because you were to me. Where do you think I learnt it? Children don’t just imagine up dismissive behaviour, they learn it. It’s taken me years to listen to my body and understand why I felt this way towards you, and why it’s not my fault, and why I shouldn’t carry around guilt for feeling it. Now I see it so clearly that it’s always been this way, and it’s not me exaggerating. I am an adult and you can still affect me with your ways. I am an adult, trying to be somebody, and you can still make me feel like I’m just some thing.

You must be deeply unhappy under all of that, even though you won’t be aware; masked it for so many years. I was. I did. Another thing you taught me – how to search for happiness in all the wrong places. I can’t blame you for that part I guess, since you don’t know the answers. But you should still see me, care for me, show love for me. Listen to me, listen to what I tell you, show you, feel.

Well that part is over now, because you have lost your hope. You’ve confirmed for me that it is how it is for a reason, but it can’t be any other way. The difference now is that I can see it. I can see through all of it, and I just need to accept it and find ways to manage it. You.

I am more than what you make me, and I’ll be more than you could dream for me too.