Tuesday 21 December 2010

21/12/10

21/12/10.

I just watched Toy Story 3. The girl at the end reminded me of my daughter Ebony and how for the last 2 months I haven't seen her – nor will I over Xmas. I just wanted to hold her. I want to play with her toys with her and create some beautiful memories to hold on to on the cold nights like this one. I cried buckets as the credits of the film rolled. It felt so good to let the built up tension out. I'm currently on a diet of lucozade, Imogen Heap – hide and seek (on repeat!), a text from a lover, a box of Cadbury's roses and my paper and pad. These things combine to form a gel that holds me together and stops me breaking into pieces. I feel so fragile I could just come apart, shatter without a touch. My face still glistens under the light of the computer screen from the tears that have drawn lines down my cheeks. Outside the icicles sparkle like the stars had fallen to the ground and got buried in the snow.

I wonder how I got here and whether this is what I deserve and if I am strong enough to come out of this without losing part of me. One cowardly act that lasted 18 months in exchange for a life time of fighting off tears whenever certain movies or songs play or someone says a word that brings everything back in a flash. It jolts me like a current is flowing through my veins. I used to believe in second chances and now I'd give anything to be given one.

You wake up in a lonely and cold bed with half of a dream dancing around your memory like a single dancer, partner vanished, waltzing around an empty ball room to music you know but can't remember the words to. In this moment all hope seems lost and a crushing wave of despair takes hold and you feel heavier than ever before and at the same time you feel a warmth of positivity wrestling with the misery carrying a torch of hope that maybe, just maybe today can be the first day of the rest of your life – a turn around. Its a constant battle for who, which emotion, will come out on top. Even Imogen Heap can't save me from that one. I doubt even Voltron could turn it around.

I just want to see my daughter and tell her that I love her and that everything is going to be ok. I want her to know I will never leave her and will always be there to do all I can to make things seem better, bearable and safe. I just want to try. I want to put aside the mistakes of before and focus on the future. Take a moment to think about regret, something you wish you hadn't done, shouldn't have done, sucks doesn't it? Now think that the person who wronged you is feeling how you just did about what they did to you. Its a sting that will never go away unless you get absolution (sorry to get religious it seemed the best word for the job!). It is good to unburden yourself, forgive someone (maybe in some cases yourself?) and take the weight off your shoulders.

If you see my little girl tell her I think about her every day. Tell her I still have the paintings of the dinosaurs she did for me that we did together. Tell her I'm sorry I can't be with her at Christmas. Tell her when I close my eyes I can still see the tea party we had in her Peppa Pig house, where we ate the best imaginary cake and drank the finest invisible tea.

Merry Christmas, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive someone next year.