The world is too much with us. I feel as though my pockets are filled with rocks. In 2008 or was it 9 I made a wish. I invoked the powers of the ancients with rituals of days gone by. Power and akasha. I washed my face in the morning dew of flowers, Iris, rose and camilla. I filled my day with thoughts, loving, kind and serene. I lit the candle. I spoke my troth. I jumped thrice over the flame at midnight.
I thought my prayer, my wish, my hope, my dream had come true. Not quite in the manner in which I had hoped, but I am flexible. Ever willing to adapt and go with the flow. I am not entirely certain that it did not come true. I had made a list… it held many criteria. 98 percent of the list was met…
What did I wish for, why that most elusive of creatures, true love.
Over the years I have wanted to say horrible things to the person I love. I have stayed my tongue, perhaps to my disadvantage. I have wanted to tell them how they have hurt me, but I stop because it is my own expectation which hurts me. My own vanity as well.
Life has taught me many things. We pay attention to that which we desire, like and want and when we truly would do anything for thing our affection is demonstrably public. There is no question as to who or what we choose. There is the unkind part of me that would wish all the pain, and tears and frustration that I have experienced as a result of loving a man who never told me with words that he loved me. Once, he told me As You Wish. I was over the moon that day, and the memory still makes me smile.
Men do not engage in conversation the way women do. Men do not understand the soft heart which is ever willing to love. Nor can they fathom the scars and pain they leave behind when they make us frail creatures feel so deeply and become attached to them with every atom that makes up who we are.