Stay with her and protect your family. But especially protect your daughters, you need that the most. They need that the most. Already you are a memory, a bittersweet memory. You are already far-off. Even if I ask you, my love, love of my life, fire of my loins, will you, won’t you stay here with me forever by my side, but even though I am writing this to you, I am thinking of someone else who has always been the gap, the fixture, the mile that I have been running to the horizon. I love you. I love you. I don’t quite deserve you.
I love you until the end of time. I loved you Dawid. Once. Once, I loved you with every inhale, and every exhale. Yes, you called me. I called you knowing there was a family in the picture. A family in the way of us rekindling anything. I give you back to her. I give you back to Andiswa safe and sound. Dawid, you are love. Dawid, you are loved. You who are worshiped and adored by Andiswa. Your Andie Macdowell. You will marry her in four weddings, and forever be attending my funeral. You have wife and family, children.
Because although the breakthroughs come, through no fault or gift of my own, you are loved by your Andiswa. You are loved by your little daughter. Stay. Stay. Stay in the comfort of her arms. I am not your angel anymore. Who are you loving now? She’s blonde now. Whatever did you imagine. I promise I will never find you. Living only to fulfil your fantasy. Your fantasy of me. I think she’s pregnant. You wanted me to stay. I never wanted to let you go. We all need love. We all need to fall in love. I am in need. I fade.
I needed you. I need you like the Sussex-man. Like the Nottingham-man. You worry me. You worry for me. I worry you all the time. So, I dance, because you are the music. You are the music. Take me into your arms. It is only because of you that I am writing again. I will feel your heartbeat inside of me for the rest of your life. Imagine you making love to your wife. Yourdaughters need you more than me. I’m not the one for goodbyes. You won’t find me. I won’t find you. Ill love you for the rest of my life. I, I think you know.
Sorry. Sorry. Apologies. I don’t mean to be so morbid and depressing. This is not the end of anything, you know. Your life is just beginning again with your beautiful and kind and loyal wife at your side, with your devoted daughters So, be a good husband. Be a good father. I love you. I love you. I love you. I can see the sorrow in your eyes. You saw the sorrow in mine. I wish we could be together again. Staring at each other across from the table at breakfast, lunch and dinner. To see you smile was the most amazing. To, see you.
To see you laugh was the mot amazing. I have the very best parts of you inside my heart. I have waited simply for an eternity again to see you again. As in centuries past, Achilles, Andromedas, we will forever stay connected, have this special inter-connectedness. I relate to you in everything. You relate to me in everything. Sympatico. I needed this sorrow, love. I needed to feel pain again. I needed to feel love again. God speed. I will think of you each day, surrounded by your friends and family, your children. Yours. Hers.
And grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Yes, I have felt it again, the first stirrings of love and passionate lovemaking again in my heart. I am not the one for you. You are not the one for me. But I will keep on telling myself that for the rest of my life. Have this heated debate inside my head. Did I make the right decision? I love you, I always will, you, you, you, gorgeous man.You will be happy again. Think of me always. Hello. Good morning. Goodbye. Love you. Love you. Love you. Burn this, or destroy this. You.You have your own moods. I have my own moods. The word lives outside my dooryard. The world lies outside of me, in your arms. Stay. Stay. Stay. Go. Go. Go. Before I begin to cry. Again, gorgeous man. Again, gorgeous man. Again, gorgeous man. Again, gorgeous man. Again, gorgeous man. Not another word about my father, gorgeous man. Another word about my mother, gorgeous man? No, no, no I don’t think so, gorgeous man. You healed my broken heart. You were there for summer reading, for winter dreaming.
For coffee in the rain for life. And if we could have, my Achilles, my Andromedas, my Hercules, you would have taken my hand, and held it in yours. You would have wiped away the tear running down my cheek, stroked my bottom lip. Breathed life back into me, but I am a vampire. My fangs would have suck ed the very life out of you. What would you would have left if I had taken you awayfrom your wife and family? How could I live with the fact of the emotional separation between mother and daughter? I will love you.
I will. Until the ed of groovy time. I would have obeyed you, taken vows with you, submitted to you again and again and again, oh, gorgeous, gorgeous one. Oh, Achilles. Oh, Andromedas. I would have obeyed your every command. Cooked and cleaned for you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. Mopping the bathroom floor, love, love, love. Where are you now? Forever yours.Beginners in diplomacy are waiting on the world to change, and everybody must have a seat at the table. Love, my great love, will tear us apart. The disabled and veterans who receive a disability grant and can’t work. Leaders of government, your countries in particular are facing a global phenomenon. World leaders, hasten! Psychoanalysis, cognitive behavioural therapy, pastoral counselling, spiritual counselling cannot solve everything. I think of the psychology framework of every individual on the face of this plane.
How we all face insurmountable problems, and challenges, choices and mistakes, the right decision, and Joy Division is now dead to me.Youth excites me. I remember what I was like when I was young. Invincible, always sure of myself, certainties disappeared, and I was particularly drawn to poetry, the Russian writers, Doctor Zhivago in particular, Omar Shariff, Lawrence of Arabia, James Dean, and Natalie Wood in Rebel Without a Cause. James Dean in East of Eden, directed by Elia Kazan, written by John Steinbeck. attached to straightening my hair every month, trying, trying, trying to get the kink out of my curl. Trying to micro-handle frizz. I wanted to know my family but they didn’t want to know me. I wanted death not life, but God had other plans for me. My aunt’s voice turned into pearls of wisdom. Daddy dear, it hurts so much. So, I don’t eat to shut out the pain. I become anorexic again. I eat green salad out of the bowl. I want a new, healthier version of me. They all tell me I’m unwell again. Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend. What exactly did you want from me in the first place? I have nothing for you. My mother doesn’t drink my coffee, or, tea. Not even my coffee is good enough for her. Now he wants nothing to do with me because I am as mad as a hatter. The love of my life, he won’t save me. The nature of the bipolar illness, mood disorders, brain disorders, PTSD when is unstoppable. Think of a multi-approach to bipolar. There’s both humility and hilarity, giving and taking, manna and the burning bush, birdsong and voices, auditory and visual hallucinations, delusions of grandeur, and psychoses and neuroses. I’m in need of self-help and painkillers.
Distance will always lend enchantment to the view. If there is nothing else in your life as survivor, or, family member, or victim, let that give you hope. You can learn to love life again.In some moments you can change your act, your behaviour, in others your attitude.I face the difficult challenge that brings our life to an abrupt halt, the individual’s passage into dismal failure, or profound, breath-taking greatness daily. I wasn’t invited to the wedding, because I wasn’t a friend. Feels just like Christmas, home. Like long distance.
