Every once in a while, I get this fear:
The fear that I'll be killed, this blog will be all that's left of me and all people will read about is moaning, complaining and griping.
This blog is my heart, you know. My core. What makes me - me.
So - over the last few days, I've been editing.
I don't want my brother to read this and think I hate him. I don't hate you, Jay. I just don't like the person you've become.
I don't want my parents to read this and think I've blamed them for "imaginary hurts". They are real to me, Mom and Dad. They really happened to me. I think we all know that. Deep down. We all know it really happened. I'm not going crazy.
I don't want ex/past friends to recognise themselves in this and think "HOW DARE YOU?" because I've only complained or written about how hurt I've been by them and haven't written down the good days as well as the bad days. Unfortunately, all I can say to that is that my creative juices flow best when I'm unhappy. When I'm well, stable and happy, I'm too busy enjoying life to be blogging :) So the pain and worry are what you're left with. But you'll remember the good times we had...and so will I. Always. I promise.
So, faithful bloggers...You'll know the stem and the bud of my very core - because you'll have read everything before it was edited. I guess if I really do die (not to worry, I'm not planning on anything - it's just irrational fear that I guess is part of being an overly anxious person)...then those stories and secrets you read that are now edited away and gone from sight - will be ours forever. You'll be the few that really, really know me. That always will. I'm strangely comforted by that.
One thing I did do, though - is decide not to protect Anne in this blog of mine. That's her real name. ANNE. Not "Beth". Beth is too nice a name to attach to an Italian sociopath, anyway. Anne, you're a liar, a cheat, the no-good skid marks of poo on the bottom of a dirty toilet bowl in a plastic, blue temporary toilet cubicle somewhere on a hot and dusty building site and I hate what you did to me. I will never forget it, I will never forget you - and I will NOT protect your identity because I WANT people to know what you did to me. I won't allow this to be covered up ever again. If the truth of what happened between you and I is the last thing I leave on this earth when I die - then that will be okay with me. So I've edited my blog to reflect that terrible girl's real name. That's a price I'm more than willing to accept the consequences for because I know with every part of my being that it's all TRUE.
You know what you did, Anne. YOU KNOW.
Now - so do the people I care about.
I just wish I could have done this 20 years earlier.
So that I don't leave today's blog with darkness...here are some of the things I love. For no particular reason and in no particular order:
I love the smell of rain - but only after it rains - and especially if it's been a hot day. When steam gently rises off the gravel on the roads and everything looks like it's washed, fresh, clean and new - the scent of freshness and also the scent of hot roads that are now cooling...it's intoxicating.
I can't ever be on a boat without wanting to put my hand in the water and feel the cool ribbons of water threading themselves through my fingers and along my fingertips. I do the same with putting my hand out of the window on a hot day when the car is speeding along...weaving the wind through my fingers and across my palm. It feels wonderful.
I love the heaviness and the comfort of 2 doonas on me during the winter months. It feels like being hugged all through the night as I sleep. I get excited every winter's evening as the sun goes down and the stars peek through the thick, dark blanket of sky - winking happily away at everyone - because I love getting into bed, wiggling my feet down deep into the covers, shivering at first and letting my body warm up the blankets...breathing in the comforting scent of fabric softener and feeling truly at peace. Truly warm and comforted. I also love the feeling of falling asleep that shortly follows. That 'half awake but not really' feeling. The heaviness of my eyes and the lightness in my heart and body as I leave this world and go and explore other worlds in my dreams. Just for the night. Wrapped up tight in the comfort and weight of heavy winter blankets. Ahhhh.
When I was younger (much, much younger), I went everywhere on my bike. I loved the freedom of being able to cycle absolutely anywhere I wanted in Nhulunbuy. I especially loved riding my bike in the wee hours of the morning - just as the sun was rising and gently kissing the tops of trees and houses. I loved the feeling of the wind rushing through my curls, the "whizz" of the tyres against the road...and especially that amazing 'freeing' feeling of coasting downhill on my bike - the wonderful part where you don't have to pedal, you just steer and watch the world go by. I would sometimes even close my eyes, just for a bit. Tilt my head back and enjoy that feeling of...flying. I loved the cool wind on my face, across my cheeks and playfully ruffling my hair. I loved riding best early in the morning because I felt as if I was the only one awake - like the sun and I had a secret, just the two of us.
I love journeys - the longer the better - more than destinations. I love seeing everything rush by when I'm safe and comfortable in a car/train/plane/boat seat. I love that it's like watching the world on a TV...but better because it's real and you get all the sights and sounds. I'd love to catch the "GHAN" train across the middle of Australia...or fly to Sydney and catch it home to Perth - just for the experience of seeing Australia - this sunburnt land that I love so much - from the air-conditioned comfort of a seat and the protection of a glass window. I think they even bring meals to you! How nice would that be, please?!? I don't think I'd read a book or listen to my favourite songs that much on the train journey; I'd be too busy watching. Just watching it go by and taking it all in. I really want to do it one day.
I love being by the sea. The salt in the air, the feeling of sand between my toes and the ethereal beauty that is the sea itself...Wow. I think this weekend, I'll take myself to Scarborough just to sit by the waves in the sun. Ideally, I'll get hold of a book to read once I'm there - a real book, though - not one of these stupid "eBook" things with stupid electronic pages. One that has real pages and that amazing 'book smell' that all books possess. The smell of stories woven in and through time...it's wonderful. I love the crash of waves upon the shore and love the sparkle of the clear, blue, brilliant water we are so blessed of God to get here in Perth. There's a song Gracie and I love to listen to, called "cake by the ocean". I'd actually like to have cake by the ocean one day. I'll try to make it happen this weekend.
I love the touch of Alun's hand. I love the thickness and dark colour and length of his eyelashes. I have to buy false lashes to even get close to lashes that Alun takes for granted. Why did boys get what girls always wanted to have? I love Alun's low chuckle. He has 7 different laughs and I love each of them. Seeing my husband happy means all is right in the world. It truly does.
I love children. I love everything about them. I love their giggles, I love how they look at everything with wonder. I love how they think 'outside of the box', I love that to children, everything has the possibility of magic. I love that kindness comes easily to children. Fairness comes easily to children. Playing, bubbles, stories, tickles, laughter and fun...children make it happen and children make it last in ways that forever ripple gently against our memories as we age.
I love a lot of things. Lol. I'll fill you in on them another time xx
The fear that I'll be killed, this blog will be all that's left of me and all people will read about is moaning, complaining and griping.
This blog is my heart, you know. My core. What makes me - me.
So - over the last few days, I've been editing.
I don't want my brother to read this and think I hate him. I don't hate you, Jay. I just don't like the person you've become.
I don't want my parents to read this and think I've blamed them for "imaginary hurts". They are real to me, Mom and Dad. They really happened to me. I think we all know that. Deep down. We all know it really happened. I'm not going crazy.
I don't want ex/past friends to recognise themselves in this and think "HOW DARE YOU?" because I've only complained or written about how hurt I've been by them and haven't written down the good days as well as the bad days. Unfortunately, all I can say to that is that my creative juices flow best when I'm unhappy. When I'm well, stable and happy, I'm too busy enjoying life to be blogging :) So the pain and worry are what you're left with. But you'll remember the good times we had...and so will I. Always. I promise.
So, faithful bloggers...You'll know the stem and the bud of my very core - because you'll have read everything before it was edited. I guess if I really do die (not to worry, I'm not planning on anything - it's just irrational fear that I guess is part of being an overly anxious person)...then those stories and secrets you read that are now edited away and gone from sight - will be ours forever. You'll be the few that really, really know me. That always will. I'm strangely comforted by that.
One thing I did do, though - is decide not to protect Anne in this blog of mine. That's her real name. ANNE. Not "Beth". Beth is too nice a name to attach to an Italian sociopath, anyway. Anne, you're a liar, a cheat, the no-good skid marks of poo on the bottom of a dirty toilet bowl in a plastic, blue temporary toilet cubicle somewhere on a hot and dusty building site and I hate what you did to me. I will never forget it, I will never forget you - and I will NOT protect your identity because I WANT people to know what you did to me. I won't allow this to be covered up ever again. If the truth of what happened between you and I is the last thing I leave on this earth when I die - then that will be okay with me. So I've edited my blog to reflect that terrible girl's real name. That's a price I'm more than willing to accept the consequences for because I know with every part of my being that it's all TRUE.
You know what you did, Anne. YOU KNOW.
Now - so do the people I care about.
I just wish I could have done this 20 years earlier.
So that I don't leave today's blog with darkness...here are some of the things I love. For no particular reason and in no particular order:
I love the smell of rain - but only after it rains - and especially if it's been a hot day. When steam gently rises off the gravel on the roads and everything looks like it's washed, fresh, clean and new - the scent of freshness and also the scent of hot roads that are now cooling...it's intoxicating.
I can't ever be on a boat without wanting to put my hand in the water and feel the cool ribbons of water threading themselves through my fingers and along my fingertips. I do the same with putting my hand out of the window on a hot day when the car is speeding along...weaving the wind through my fingers and across my palm. It feels wonderful.
I love the heaviness and the comfort of 2 doonas on me during the winter months. It feels like being hugged all through the night as I sleep. I get excited every winter's evening as the sun goes down and the stars peek through the thick, dark blanket of sky - winking happily away at everyone - because I love getting into bed, wiggling my feet down deep into the covers, shivering at first and letting my body warm up the blankets...breathing in the comforting scent of fabric softener and feeling truly at peace. Truly warm and comforted. I also love the feeling of falling asleep that shortly follows. That 'half awake but not really' feeling. The heaviness of my eyes and the lightness in my heart and body as I leave this world and go and explore other worlds in my dreams. Just for the night. Wrapped up tight in the comfort and weight of heavy winter blankets. Ahhhh.
When I was younger (much, much younger), I went everywhere on my bike. I loved the freedom of being able to cycle absolutely anywhere I wanted in Nhulunbuy. I especially loved riding my bike in the wee hours of the morning - just as the sun was rising and gently kissing the tops of trees and houses. I loved the feeling of the wind rushing through my curls, the "whizz" of the tyres against the road...and especially that amazing 'freeing' feeling of coasting downhill on my bike - the wonderful part where you don't have to pedal, you just steer and watch the world go by. I would sometimes even close my eyes, just for a bit. Tilt my head back and enjoy that feeling of...flying. I loved the cool wind on my face, across my cheeks and playfully ruffling my hair. I loved riding best early in the morning because I felt as if I was the only one awake - like the sun and I had a secret, just the two of us.
I love journeys - the longer the better - more than destinations. I love seeing everything rush by when I'm safe and comfortable in a car/train/plane/boat seat. I love that it's like watching the world on a TV...but better because it's real and you get all the sights and sounds. I'd love to catch the "GHAN" train across the middle of Australia...or fly to Sydney and catch it home to Perth - just for the experience of seeing Australia - this sunburnt land that I love so much - from the air-conditioned comfort of a seat and the protection of a glass window. I think they even bring meals to you! How nice would that be, please?!? I don't think I'd read a book or listen to my favourite songs that much on the train journey; I'd be too busy watching. Just watching it go by and taking it all in. I really want to do it one day.
I love being by the sea. The salt in the air, the feeling of sand between my toes and the ethereal beauty that is the sea itself...Wow. I think this weekend, I'll take myself to Scarborough just to sit by the waves in the sun. Ideally, I'll get hold of a book to read once I'm there - a real book, though - not one of these stupid "eBook" things with stupid electronic pages. One that has real pages and that amazing 'book smell' that all books possess. The smell of stories woven in and through time...it's wonderful. I love the crash of waves upon the shore and love the sparkle of the clear, blue, brilliant water we are so blessed of God to get here in Perth. There's a song Gracie and I love to listen to, called "cake by the ocean". I'd actually like to have cake by the ocean one day. I'll try to make it happen this weekend.
I love the touch of Alun's hand. I love the thickness and dark colour and length of his eyelashes. I have to buy false lashes to even get close to lashes that Alun takes for granted. Why did boys get what girls always wanted to have? I love Alun's low chuckle. He has 7 different laughs and I love each of them. Seeing my husband happy means all is right in the world. It truly does.
I love children. I love everything about them. I love their giggles, I love how they look at everything with wonder. I love how they think 'outside of the box', I love that to children, everything has the possibility of magic. I love that kindness comes easily to children. Fairness comes easily to children. Playing, bubbles, stories, tickles, laughter and fun...children make it happen and children make it last in ways that forever ripple gently against our memories as we age.
I love a lot of things. Lol. I'll fill you in on them another time xx
Comments
Post a Comment