Hush now

It’s a dull tickling, a silent jolt.Eyes closed the movie reel starts: memories made and those to come. Flicker-fest fast, surround sound now. He slumbers still, breath hot and wet. Hand reaches out in ink-deep dark. Nothing. Space. Alone for now, in waking dreams. Stuck between. Imagination obscene. Crazy-thoughts or everyday Joe? Sleep evades, restlessness pervades.

It’s a dull tickling, a silent jolt.

Shades of Purple

His eye had turned a pretty shade of purple, the stitches hiding in his eyebrow barely hidden by a large pair of aviator sunglasses. I sipped my coffee, turned back to the weekend paper and tried to bury the guilt I felt for his injuries.

The guy had run his hand across my back and bum as I walked through the crowded pub. FLB was following close behind me. I’m not sure if he noticed the guys hands or me trying to shake them. FLB turned to the guy “what do you think your doing?”. The guy back pedaled, stuttered something like a half-meant apology. FLB started a reply, words barely born into the space between them before he was thrown sideways. He regained his footing and slammed his fist into the guys face. Arms, legs tangled. Screaming, swearing, shouting. I grabed for something, someone. Pulled into the chaos I smashed my leg on the stool. Finally security got there and pulled everyone apart. Thats when I noticed his eye. Already swollen. Like a golf ball trying to emerge from his eyebrow. Red-wetness pouring down his face. I could’t decide if I wanted to cry or scream. I did neither.

I looked back up from the paper. “It’s not your fault” FLB says.

I love that he will never back down when he thinks someone has done something wrong, but I hate seeing him hurt. He says that if more people refused to put up with pigs that there would be far less of them. I think he’s right, but I wonder sometimes if it’s really worth it.

Understanding the ‘drop’

It first happened a little over ten years ago.

The night air was cool as I walked down the broken concrete pathway to the hills hoist, washing basket piled high with damp clothes. As I pegged each sock, skirt or shirt to the thin wire line I looked up into the ink black sky pock-marked with stars. We had been learning about astrology at school. They said that the universe went on forever. Forever. Never ending, forever. How could all my world be such a tiny spec in the whole grand concept of the universe, this entity that went on forever. I stared out into the all-consuming blackness and I felt something drop. As if my heart had suddenly lost grip and free-fallen into my stomach. Perhaps it was a realisation of my own mortality, a sudden need for life purpose or even a resignation to the futility of life. At eleven years old, it terrified me.

In the twelve years since I have been learning to recognise it and then push it far away. I know the triggers now: a vivid night sky; a moment of happiness; talk of what happens after death; seeing pictures of the earth from space. However, recently I have been trying to learn to accept the drop, to understand it better. I have been letting it run its course. Instead of turning on the television or distracting my thoughts with a book I’m trying to just sit and listen to whatever it is that’s going on in my head.

This is really hard to explain and for most of my life I have been too afraid of talking about it because it means experiencing the feeling all over. Nevertheless, I wonder if anyone out there has a semblance of an understanding as to what I mean, or know the feeling themselves…..

The appeal of little hands

We (the boy and I) can’t quite seem to figure out our recent desire  to            have a living breathing amalgamation of our genes keeping us up at night.     Neither of us would be considered “kiddy” people. Until a few months ago  I was terrified to just hold a baby. In fact, I’m only comfortable holding       my friends seven-month old if I’m sitting on the ground and there is,           therefore, no chance of me dropping him. We wouldn’t know the first   thing about looking after a child. Sure between us and a few good Introductions to Parenting 1.0 we could figure it out, make-sure the nappy is on the right way round and strap the baby seat into the car, but it wouldn’t be easy.

So why is it that the B word just keeps coming up, from both sides? Perhaps it is the animal instinct in us that is triggered when we realise we have found a life partner, or maybe its just that when you love someone so much it seems like the natural next step.