Fragments of memories pierce through my best attempts to remain engaged in anything , ANYTHING that will hold my attention.

Scenes that feel like they belong in a violent and dramatic film. The kind that make me change channels quickly.

Parts of me wishing desperately for them to be fiction.

The reality too gruesome and tragic to bear.

I close my eyes tightly, making an ugly contorted scrunched up face .

In the distance I hear birds outside, the rush of a car going faster then it should up this sleepy quiet street.

Distracted thoughts flood in ...... a walk ? Perhaps the sunshine will do me good.

I already know I don’t feel up to facing the world right now but for a second the thought was almost convincing.

Music ! Up loud?

I try, but the lyrics haunt me and in an instant I can’t stand the intense emotions they produce.

I pace the house in an absent kind of way, no purpose to my movement through the rooms. A sense that I forgot to do something but what I have no idea.

Eventually I sink into the couch. It’s cheery patterned fabric glaringly bright and far to upbeat to suit my mood.

Tired of fighting my own mind I take a deep breathe and slowly succumb to that sick melancholy ache that won’t leave me alone and wait for the images to reappear.

Given my career, I am often conflicted when it comes to responding in appropriate ways to the powers that be, keenly aware that making enemies will land me in unpleasant situations.

Yes, I’m ashamed to admit I pretend at work a lot.

Sometimes I really really really just want to calmly say FUCK OFF!

In my head ,they are my most most treasured and satisfying words

Positivity always seems the better deal right?

Endings and outcomes are largely out of our control so why not be positive?

Positivity is not an assured happy outcome.

You can remain positive when all has essentially gone to shit.

You can be hopeful / positive and still be a realist.

You can be positive without being annoying and preachy.

Plus at the end of the day, no one likes to hangout with a negative nancy.

Positivity in grounded doses is important to me.

I am all for a little positivity.

It’s true, you were!

And I was SO slow to arrive at the inescapable truth that we don’t work and that this is not a healthy relationship.

I never meant for things to get so out of control.

I have been so angry at you ..... mostly because it was much easier to focus on your inadequacies, to cast my blame and rage outside of myself.

My anger now replaced by a deep longing and silent sadness.

Letting go sounds so easy in theory but I just couldn’t. I’m sorry I persisted, clinging obsessively with both hands to something that was rotten on the inside.

You were my golden ticket,the means to end my empty void.

I was the broken promise of happiness and forever yours.

You were my favourite mistake and the hardest lesson I ever had to learn.

And perhaps....... the most important lesson?As I have been resurrected deep within and never again shall I be so trivial and wreckless when it comes to matters of the heart.

If I asked you in all seriousness to let me look through your closet and take some items of clothing .... could you?

What if I asked to rummage through your dresser or bathroom, selecting desired items as I pleased.

Perhaps I might delight in your fragrance, or an old necklace, rummage through your make up, or pilfer your beloved expensive and oh so soft towels.

Could you part with the books beside your bed? Your favourite pot in the kitchen or that old mug you have managed to keep for all these years?

And what about the vegetables in the garden that you have grown lovingly from seeds or the overgrown jasmine that showers you in heavenly heady scent when the sun warms the flowers and the warm breeze carries it throughout the house?

Could you hand over your favourite sweater, the one that is so comfortable but still smart enough to wear out? Your favourite chair that offers just the right amount of support. The shower head that lends the exact and perfect amount of water pressure? The soap that smells like home ?

Could you let me walk out with your favourite sheets? The boots that look amazing with everything? Your music collection? The coffee you like best? The first piece of artwork that you hung on the wall? Your beloved dog?

It’s understandable if you couldn’t.

But could you then perhaps find some moments in your day, just every once in a while to appreciate and give thanks for the things that you love and value and have?

There are so many who would cherish and love to have all that you have.

In this very moment words will not help.

My pain can not be soothed , my soul unable to drink in your efforts to whisper gentle words of comfort.

Nothing will penetrate the heavy , complex and quietly terrifying cloak that my emotions have settled around my shoulders.

I am resigned to feeling it all. Too full of fatigue to fight it.

There is nothing that can be done other then to hold me.

The soul crushing realisation that you are not the one they want anymore. That they would prefer to be alone even, over staying entangled in your specific company.

That they have somehow understood the elusive and awe inspiring notion of letting go and it’s happening baby. WITHOUT you!

The pain of that numb awful period where the world has lost colour and joy, where you can’t find meaning in conversations with friends or once dearly loved songs..... this pain can leave the strongest of us shattered and quivering in a dark corner longing to loose all sensation and wishing everything was different .

He froze with the realisation that this was his fault. He frantically tried to remember a time that he could call happy. When he realised with a resounding misery that one couldn’t be summoned, he searched for the feeling of freedom but fell just as short with that one.

How did it get to this?

Memories of late nights at the office piled upon each other along with thoughts of all the times he said yes when he wanted to say no. Deadlines, people pleasing ..... it had all contributed to where he now stood. An unsatisfied stranger in his own life.

He summoned up a forceful will to think of a solution to this mess. None sprang to mind. A sinking feeling settled around him bearing weight on his already slumped shoulders and feeling like it was knocking the air out of his lungs.

This would take time. Time and effort to turn this around. A lot of both.

He drew in a deep breath and with it came another sensation. A gentle but sturdy clarity. A deep knowing that he would not let it all end as it is.

He didn’t yet know where or even how to start. But he did know without a trace of doubt That he would do whatever it takes to create a different reality.