3.18am

I don’t recall the date I left him. There is no anniversary to be had. To be honest, I can’t even tell you the month. I know it was a week day…

A letter to a turtle

When I was your age, I just felt so alone and I really remember feeling like I couldn’t share the dark depths of my thoughts. The scary thing that I have found out since then is that all around me, everyone was falling apart and fucked up! Some of us just hide it better than others!

An eulogy not to be spoken

I don’t believe in a heaven.  I don’t believe in a single entity, all seeing, all knowing “God”.

Life, for me, hasn’t been about a quest to the pearly gates or a better life on the other side.  This is it.  This moment.  This shared experience.  This breath.

I remember a stage in my life where those thoughts overwhelmed me – when the concept of having no purpose to be here but to be here seemed rather pointless.  What difference would it matter then, if i weren’t here?

I remember thinking that in the scheme of the country…  in the scheme of the world… in the scheme of the universe…  what does my life here mean.  Anything?

I remember that emptiness well.  That feeling of walking into a crowded room, surrounded by a sea of people yet feeling so very alone.  Disconnected.  A hollow that just wouldn’t fill up no matter how wide the smile or sincere the laughter.

I also remember the day that that feeling receded.

He was such a scrawny baby;  all limbs and no chubba.  I’d sleep with him curled in my arms, his tiny frame protected by my looming body arched over and around his.  We were inseparable – he was always my little right hand man.

It’s through his life that I finally understood what this journey is all about.  There may be no grand scheme to it all, no heaven or hell, no man in the sky dictating my path and purpose.  My life as a single unit probably has little impact to the world let alone the universe.  But to my family…  to this little babe I held in my arms, with his golden hair and cheeky smile, to him, my impact is huge.

And at the end of the day, I think that family is all there is – the rest are just extras in a film.

This life we lead, no matter how complex and brutal, it’s just a series of moments strung together by our somewhat dodgy memories and our capacity for love.

My son didn’t know why he was in this world.  I do.

He was here  to grow into a loving adult; person of insight and a pillar for change.

He was here to give love to another and be loved by them, and eventually have a child so that as he held his baby in his arms and loved it unconditionally, he would understand exactly why he is here on this Earth.

He was here so that his friends may love him and respect him for the wit and nurturing soul he was, and in doing so, grow.

He was here so that his sister may love and adore him and look up to him with all her heart and in doing so, know herself better.

He was here so that I may love him with all my heart and in doing so be a better person.

I just wish he knew how important it was that he was here and the irreplaceable gap he’s left behind.

Weakness

He’s such a funny poppet; a collection of contridictions, unfounded assumptions, and unbounded affections.

My Ginger date

It’s 2am. I’m in Melbourne laying beside my Ginger, listening to him breathe deeply as he snoozes. I can’t sleep. In fact I’m wired and emotional. I think it’s the knowing that this isn’t reality but a joyous 14hr high; a taste of what I actually want.

Occupy

He occupies my mind.  The weeks have passed, yet he occupies my mind.

Not with malice nor bitterness.  The opposite in fact.  I find myself gazing off into the distance yearning for his touch, his embrace. His kiss.

My mind flickers back to the short lived moments together, in particular, that last night.  I replay him flopping on the couch, hot and sweaty, and casually stating “I love Grand Designs”.  I replay how my heart fluttered when I realised he wasn’t being sarcastic and notched it in my mind as another thing we had in common.  Another parallel; symmetry.

My mind flickers to us lying in bed that night, my eyes full with adoration.  I felt it on my face and knew I wasn’t hiding it well.  I lay staring into those brown eyes, memorizing the length of each lash.  He caught my adoring and looked away.

I replay all the things that won my heart… The embraces, the thoughtfulness, the sweet messages.  I replay it all and over think it all.

I dissect how it could be that I fell so hard and fast for him in such a short a time that has left me a month since seeing him yearning for his embrace.  I dissect how it is that we are reduced to me logging in to see if he’s moved on.

And that’s the hardest part.  I think he has moved on – his sentiments for me not as sincere as first thought.  Else why would he not seek to see me;  to reconcile.  In my mind, if he did actually feel for me as he said he did, then would he not have just arrived at my door and said “I’m sorry for the miscommunication – I’m head over heels for you.”

Would I have not done the same?  I would have.  I’ve toyed with the idea of just arriving at his house – an awkward move when you’ve not been there before and aren’t even sure of where it is he lives or with whom.

I used to be so sure, able to see with such clarity someone I was meant to love and be loved by.  I don’t know why it is I got this one so wrong.  But I can see with perfect 20:20 vision our future – see us heading to the beach for a day together; walking our dogs; BBQs with family; snuggled on the couch watching dvds.  I see all the mundane with him and more.  He fit.

Yet despite the fit, he pushed me back and withheld like those before.  I panicked and could only  hear my inner monologue:  ”I don’t want to do this again – be in love with someone who is forever testing and conditioning my love.”  So I set him free like I thought he wanted – cause it clearly wasn’t me he desired.

So I guess it just leaves me to accept that he and I were not meant to be;  that despite that I love him and yearn for him, it’s not what he wants.  No reconciliation to be had, no last goodbye.

… I don’t give my heart away with ease; don’t let people past my boundary wall.  And right now, close to my heart is where he remains.  Slowly I’ll push him back past the boundary wall, but until then thoughts of my head on his chest as we fall asleep occupies my mind.

Yep.  He occupies my mind.

Push Pull

I wish he knew what he wanted and the courage to commit. I’m not asking a lot – just either push me to arm’s length and leave me their to remain, or pull me close and enclose me with your embrace.

Is that it?!

I just want to shout “Is that it? Is your adult angst hinging on your mother’s love? Are you honestly amplifying her acts of motherly kindness into mole hills of Mumageddon!? Glorifying how much you don’t need her any longer and exemplifying how much of an ungrateful arse you can be?!”

Motherhood

I worry.

I don’t think I am doing a very good job as a parent.

Baby Brothers are Trouble

In the few nights that it took to deliver her brother, the little girl was packed up and sent to stay with neighbours who had befriended the family when they had moved to the area a few years prior. The little girl didn’t mind – she liked the family.