I love her.

Change everywhere! I stare into the mirror at the freckled face framed by a dark blonde bob and big black framed glasses; New hair, new glasses, new shirt, new apartment, new routines, new life, old Nella?
I have been completely overwhelmed with the sheer business of life over the past two weeks. Baffled at how everything, life as I know it has moulded and shaped into something I no longer recognise, I stepped off the plane and into a world that I no longer have a place in. I wrap an old blanket around me and walk out onto the 8^th floor balcony of the condo I'm staying at; staring in awe at the lightning that illuminates the entire city sky line. This is my storm.
The monstrous rumbling thunder, the cars rushing below, the rain pelting down, washing away the sins of the day. People move like ants inside their dimly lit apartments, and all of a sudden I realise that the world is exactly the way I left it all those months ago. All that has really changed is me. It's me who finally decides what that change will be, I can decide where this life will take me, old Nella? Nope. Before me stands a more mature, wiser, and stronger woman, and I love her more than ever before.

 

 

Time...

Bones- Ben Howard

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Hollow.

I grabbed random belongings and ran to Emma's house. Those dark days lit only by her hand shaking me awake throughout the night to quieten my screams. Her iPod softly played Jack Johnson to chase away the dark.
I had a trip booked to see my cousin; I considered cancelling but realized I could use the break.
I arrived and tried to pretend that nothing had happened, covering the dark circles under my eyes with as much makeup as they could hold. Admitting what had happened would mean it was true, how could it be? As the days passed the sadness took over, and while her beautiful little girls slept in the backseat I finally broke down and cried telling her everything.
With her help and support, I decided I wasn't ready to give up on him, that this was marriage and you fought with everything you had to make it work. It had to be enough, it's all I had.
After a week away I returned to him, to our home, and I gave it an honest effort. We saw a counsellor, we had rules in place. He was to let me know where he was and when he would be home, he wasn't to get drunk without me; he was to call often on business trips. Each pathetic rule was broken, every chance at trust shattered again, again, again. He refused to go back to the counsellor.
Life continued for him as if nothing had changed; he would get frustrated with the shadow of me that was left. I incessantly cleaned, baked and decorated, our home transformed into absolute hollow beauty. We bought things to fill the holes in our chests, hot tubs, couches, and clothes, things. They left us more hollow then before.
I would go through days of trying really hard, I would do sweet things for him like make a special dinner, or leave him sweet notes in his car. A few days later I would fall apart. I believed I was crazy.
During those three months I became a zombie, the memories from that time are grey and dull and empty. The most memorable memory is when Blake went on a ski trip for work and "forgot" his phone; wild nights of drinking and fun fill his memory, crying alone on the floor of our home fill mine. In fact most of those grey nights were spent alone, my hot water-bottle desperately trying to fill the cold in that empty king sized bed.

Who Shall I be?

Clarity has washed over me like the moment when you burst from the water, having held your breath too long. My lungs sting with new air, my eyes adjust to the bright sunlight, my soul reborn from the depths, a simple longing, who am I and who shall I be?

live differently

"I wanted to give people a second chance, a way of viewing the world and their relation to the world with different eyes. That does not necessarily mean a happy ending; simply another chance to live life differently." -Sarah Winman (When God was a Rabbit)

 

Three things.

Love...

I've never understood why in life we need to grow through pain, it seems like such a cruel joke. One of these instances arose during my stay on the island; I could no longer hold it together. Regret began to paralyse me, tears streamed uncontrollably from my puffy eyes as I lay in the dark, desperately trying to catch my breath longing for this pain to stop. I always wondered how there were medications for everything in the world; how we could fly to the moon but there wasn’t a pill to console a broken heart.

My Aunt pushed my bedroom door open and looked at her broken niece, she wrapped her arms around me and told me that I had made the right choice, that from the moment I had walked in she knew I was done, she knew it was over. She told me that it was ok to still love and miss him and that I would for a long time as he had been a very special part of my life, she told me that it was ok to let him go, it was ok to do what I felt was right because everyone knows what they can and can’t live with and in the end only I could be the one to decide, and that’s exactly what I was doing. My Uncle joined us and lay on my other side while I shook between them, he gave me a sleeping pill to calm my nerves, he told me I was beautiful and that I was going to be more than ok, that this would always be a home for me, that they loved me no matter what. He reminded me that I had come there to clear my head, which had been unhappy and confused for so long; he reminded me that this would be a long and hard journey but that I would make it through stronger than I went in. They held me until the tears stopped, and looking back I couldn’t be more thankful for the unbelievable love they showed me that night. How unbelievably blessed I am to have them and to have been there with them, to love and be loved by them. All three of us grew that night, it was my pain that brought us together, but it was our love that changed something inside of us. In the end we ultimately grow through love, the pain is merely a catalyst for that love to find its way. 

    

Salty air and blistering sunshine.

I’ve spent the last 5 weeks with my Aunt and Uncle in Barbados, this land has cleansed me with salty air and blistering sunshine. Sand is constantly stuck to me and these precious days are spent eating flying fish sandwiches, taking surfing lessons, midnight skinny dipping, and getting lost between the pages of many beautiful books.
Every Sunday night we get dressed up and head down to “Charlie’s” a little beat up restaurant on the beach. It is run by no other than Charlie himself, who is a raging alcoholic. I can’t help but like him, he always plays Bob Marley and has a sadness about him that strangely draws me in. We have our roast beef dinner and Yorkshire pudding with friends from all over the island. As Reggae tones fill the sticky air. Stories of my parent’s childhood emerge and favourite life moments are relived. As soon as the sun sets behind the turquoise water all that can be heard is the howling of the frogs, and I know that somewhere inside me my heart is still beating.