I is for invisible

The words in my heart remain


2 years!

on the event of our two year wedding anniversary, these are the words i say to you.

two years ago, i married my best friend.
now, two years on, i realise, nothing has changed, and for that this morning i am grateful.

we’d never know what lies around the bend, beloved, and i guess that is the truest way to feel alive, our reactions, our compromises, our decisions, our coping mechanisms. thank you for giving me such a safe environment, so steeped and secured in your love, for me to be able to acknowledge my emotions, at their rawest, most immediate, pre-censorship state.

this will be a tough year for the both of us, with you going off for 6 months and me not able to join you there. i think we are just a couple of weeks to your departure; and that reality grows starker and starker with each day you pander to my every whim around bedtime when i am fussing and stressing (or decompressing) from the day.

so here is my blessing for you:

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

I is for inside voice

My inside voice rambles on and on. It chatters incessantly: my fears, my worries,  my guilt, my frustration. I try to simplify it so I can make some sense of it: what is this really about, c. How much of this is a desperate cry for release? How much of this is a torrent of rage? How much of this is a fervor for attention? So I ask myself, on this day… I feel .. (fill in the blanks)

1) panicked – omfg.  The monumental changes to come. The drastic changes that must happen yesterday.
2) lonely – it’s my life to lead, and my consequences to bear
3) loved – I married someone with unshakable faith in me, and volumes of patience that astounds me
4) sour – I have been surly and mean, direct and tactless today
5) redeemed – my husb reminds me there are no small miracles, and that God loves fiercely and posessively.
6) thankful – for mum’s quiet support in the things she does not say. And dad’s acts of service.
7) shocked – some relationships do not go the distance or run shallower than I thought they would
8) unravelled – this uncontrollable flood of emotion that swallows me

The dogs (and I know I really spend alot of my time talking about the dogs) sense my frustration. Today peps put aside her chewy treat just to cuddle with me, willingly. These days I think they are really fantastic creatures that only love unconditionally and without reservation or judgement. They just take what you are willing to give, and are all so atuned to my moods. Truly the most worthwhile emotional investment.