Shakespeare immortalised metaphors ........
Life's but a walking shadow
A poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot,
Full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing
This was inspired on my way home and is the beginnings of another poem never to be finished
This is a poem about fuss-pottery
The sister of my mother, means my auntie.
With the death of my mum
Left space for her to come,
Fussing and brushing me,
Rushing and fussing me.
To shower me with increasing anxiety.
She really is the best of fuss-potterer
Just when I thought I had got the lot of her
She was in stereo
Auntie two came in tow
Fussy and fussier
Loving and lovelier
To remind me that calls would not bother her!
See I give up! Can't be bothered to keep going. Never think it's of any worth anyway yet I enjoy it when I start off.
I will post it on FB and hope that my cousin and aunt are not offended but can see the funny side. Actually perhaps I won't post it anywhere but here in the safety of my secure Blog.
Things I would like to write about - anger the emotion versus angry behaviour and attitude and tones.
A lovely walk. Friendship. Losing access to the things I like and enjoy. Not in love with me. Easy peasy lemon squeezy friendships. Memento (the film and a question about a bit I don't really get and a moan about the ending - that always flattens the score I end up giving the film despite the main content being good). My packing up and going to Spain - my brown eyes.
Probably other things too but these things come to mind and I jot them down here in case I forget them then they could always be revisited or questioned.
I read JH's writings. He said he is sad about not travelling with me. Does this mean he is coming to the end of the path with me? Are we coming to a crossroads and have to go different ways? Is he talking about the trip to the USA? I get a sense he sees me less and less with love as us together. But I also think this is difficult for him to say. I am not certain and all the time I am not certain I think it is important to keep walking through. I would not want to walk away from something that is not clear cut. I have such strong feelings about not being with him, this tells me something. I know it is not fear of being alone or something like this. I am very certain it is only connected with JH himself. I am not sure if this is the case for JH. He is opening Pandora's Box and maybe he is so excited about what he sees that he feels the need to go and explore this on his own. After all he has not been single at all for years and years. Perhaps there is no room to have a me along too, hence the constant moving on. This is all open questions, no answers.
Universe, please show me what it is I am uncertain of and cannot see.
I have this overwhelming sadness - as if there is loss already. And yet we have been talking about continuing as a couple. Has too much happened? Have we lost the magic and it is irretrievable? Perhaps it was all a fantasy. JH fantasises and I can fantasise. He says he thought I put him on a pedestal he seems not to believe he was worthy of. Was I creating a person he wasn't really? Was he doing the same? He had an ideal and really I am not fitting it. Is this the grief of realising?
I don't know if I believe what I have just written. But I do keep feeling this incredibly sadness. Maybe we have lost something and there is now the opportunity to re-meet each other. Grieving the loss of something and now the real JH and Bliss can step forward. I was always the real me.
The things I like about JH I would sorely miss if I could never have access to again - his groundedness, his practicality, his friendliness, his knowledge, his sense of adventure, his desire for simplicity, his love of the planet, his desire for self discovery and self improvement, his courage, his love, his creative desires, his design scope, his company, the way he gives me the freedom to be creative, his desire for things different, he is interesting. Well here are a few in this very moment. They shift and change shape depending on what's going on.
I am very very grateful to have been allowed to explore my sexuality. Something I have never permitted before ever with anyone else. There was something in JH that I saw as a possibility to help me OK with sex. He wrote about not being selfish - I think this was in direct relation to me mentioning selfishness. Interesting that he has related this to sex. I wonder if he has in the past been accused of being selfish sexually. JH has been far from selfish.
I think the Universe knew that a lesson for me was to discover that sex is not disgusting. SC (therapist) was not understanding this about me. I think SC has many, many valid points. He has said on many occasion that relationships will kill me. They have come close. When I re-traumatise I certainly want to cut. But what he didn't seem to comprehend was that sex and I were poles apart. Sex for me was all bells and whistles so long as I didn't have to be intimate with a person. And by intimacy I mean the fullest meaning of the word as in closeness emotionally and mentally and then the sexual and physical intimacy had become relaxed. JH enabled me to see that I could very much enjoy sex.
Of course with the situation as it has become clear has shown me that there was a veil between us. I know JH says he didn't ever take away from his love for me but he wasn't actually fully available to love me and cherish me. And intimacy to me means complete openness and honesty and willingness to work through anything until through to the other side or discovering that one or the other cannot go any further. Hopefully if that is the case then there is the possibility for friendship in the truest meaning of that word.'
I am writing this in the hope that JH does read this and can fully understand what I am writing about. We sort of have this weird communication now of writing out Blogs and reading each others and becoming informed by it.
Of course my writings are in this moment and there is an element of trying to get some sense of everything so ideas and understanding is still shifting at this time.
HOW - honesty openness and willingness.
I have a strong feeling that JH is realising he doesn't actually love me as a lover. Similarly as he has done with ES and others before me.
And I am certainly uncertain at this time. I am scared to commit fully in case I am going to get hurt. So to try and work through this needs a firm commitment from JH. If he is in any doubt then I would really rather not.
And commitment means ..... ? I wonder what commitment would mean to JH. I wonder if he really wants to do that?
Well unanswered questions..... I laughed at myself last evening. I think it was last evening. How bloody prideful I am. How irritated I was with myself that JH was the first to say well shall we get on with our things? I chuckled to myself and shared it actually with JH but I don;t think he understood the humour in it. I think some of the humour in things is being lost with all the upset and fragility. There are many funny things.
Spain. JH has commented a few times about the picture of me in Spain and the emotion he sees in my eyes that appear to be brown. He thinks he sees JB in this picture. Gosh he is so wrong. I don;t know why my eyes appear brown. My spirit was dead, my soul felt lost. Nothing at all to do with JB, far from it. I went to Spain to get away. From everything, from nothing.
JB happened to be there and I had the awareness to make distance from him.
Yes we nearly died together but it wasn't a togetherness. I was very much alone in Spain for 3 1/2 months I wasn't even with me. Despite all the people and places I was just with me and I felt despair. I kept myself alive somehow.
I saw an opportunity to go somewhere else. I value being able to move easily and for some time before that time I had been pinned down - SH had caged my soul. I had let him of course, so I don't blame him, it is what he wants. Never before had I been so clutter-trapped. Selling my possessions was the start of being me again. Maya Angelou knows why the caged bird sings. I had not thought about that poem until last evening. And it came up whilst talking with JHsessions. I knew why the caged bird was singing. I saw a way to flap my wings, try them out ...... JB simply presented the possibility to me.
When that picture was taken it was strange. The place was a very deserted bar and beach area, where one would expect crowds of people. It reflected how I felt inside. I went back there one early evening and was lying alone on the sunbeds, a little chilly watching the sun go down. Once again sensing a place that was meant to be buzzing, feeling as empty as me. It was a peculiar evening. The sun disappeared leaving a thick black line of an horizon on the sea. Lying there in the dark, these guys silently turned up on the beach beneath me. All black wetsuits they quietly and in organised stealth started out to sea in rubber dinghy's. I slowed and quietened my breathing, watching their manoeuvres. I mentioned it to no one until this moment.
They didn't know I was there. No one knew I was there. No one knew where I was that evening. Nothing mattered, nothing at all.
I wonder about that evening. I breathed in the black horizon and carried on singing in my cage. But in Spain I started to know what freedom might look like.
What JH sees is a person dead inside. Lost. Lonely. An empty soul.
Uhm - next topic - another Blog so this one is posted
Bliss
XXf
