I fell in love with something that did not love me back. I loved it in a way that I have never had compassion for anyone or another thing. It was not an infatuation, obsessing for a small amount of time. It was something I was willing to give my life. Yet, as in all things of life, the things we love do not usually want to stay but love wings to fly, fly away.
I love History. I pursued an academic life within its world because it made me happy but it killed my purse. I started regretting ever-loving it and I tried to push everything pertaining to it away from, far away. I stopped writing about it, I stopped researching. There were many topics that I kept adding bits and bits of information, some more than a year old but every time I came to my gadget I saw them, so I filed them away, far away. I felt my heart hardening towards History, a word just seeing the letters or hearing the name, passed a thrill through my heart.
That dreadful feeling lasted many weeks but some thing different happened. I cannot remember what particular event is responsible I guess like when you are falling in love, you may not recall what event started the process. I feel the frost slowing dripping away, I wanted my History back though nothing changed with History as a living. My purse still works like onions making me weep, my financial outlook is still bleak but I still want my History. Maybe History is what I will always love but it may not open the bakery for my bread. So I will stay to using the research tools my lecturers gave me for my own personal research and to share with you tidbits on here. I will try to brainwash people who are around me with my historical love but I will always leave my heart open for History love because in spite of my disappointments it is the only thing which still stirs my soul at the moment.
Have you ever loved a hobby or profession but it never worked out for you but desperately needed to live in its world? Would you mind telling me about it down below? Would you give up everything else in your life for that love?
You entered with your wife, I noticed when at the same moment I lifted my head.
I really thought I would break down and cry when I saw you and her together but I did not.
“Wow, this is great”, I said to myself.
Our eyes met a few times during the ceremony and I just glanced away.
I refuse to sit sorrow fully and not enjoy my sister’s wedding.
Wish you all the best in your marriage.
My one request is that you continue to stay away from me,
You are doing a good job so far and I would like to recommend you for that.
Now I am free to not be afraid of displeasing people who are around me.
Why should I hate you?
No reason to, I feel absolutely no resentment, maybe if you try speaking to me that will change.
So do us both a favour and do not try to.
I am making great strides in moving on.
Yes I occasionally think about you but far better than the every minute thing.
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It beckons me, binding me come to its bosoms, teasing from the corner of my eyes. My heart leaps, with each raise and fall of my chest, I know my release is not to long away. Brightly coloured in a kaleidoscope of beauty beseeching me into its fold. Should I plunge? Will you smooth my anxieties, will you promise to only caress me? I sigh deeply in submission, exciting touching the harden surface of your crust, yet you did not deny me. I remember the first time I met you, so long ago that I fear the memory is opaque. Your bright and becoming features were all over the place. It was my love at first sight; thinking about it now, it is my only love at first sight. Perhaps, the reason for my attachment to you. I have heard that one always remember their first love, then tag you are it baby. For you my heart will always crave, hunger for your reassuring words of comfort and excitement.
Words in war, romance, thriller, spiritual awakening, aimed to suit the past, present or future. Even when you bring with sadness, you promise a better tomorrow. I believe that vow because the day after you gave me another story, one of a happier ending. With you it is never a lie, I am never a jilted sheila on the verge of an emotional attack. You always tell me in brief or not, what I should expect of you. True, there will be twist in the plot, a surprise here and there but that is how I like it. I expect and except that only from you. We have a special relationship, I can share you with others and I still feel like your girl. You are the only one I will accept this arrangement with; it is what it is.
You are good with words. I lovingly turn page after page and deeper you pulled me into your cocoon. A solace that no one can offer me greets with a shout, a wave and a smile. I am home, albeit how imaginative and penned by someone else, it is but darn it, it is my refuge. My arbitrary choice when the thin wall that laces my sensitive thought process, crashes into a sea of fury and nothingness. It is my protector, my forever, on it I can rely to never leave or lie to me. I will always want you, I will want you until I draw my last borrowed oxygen.
You are my therapy.
Books are my therapy.