Memories

I entered my old house recently.  It was interesting to say the least.  I thought I would have a myriad of feelings and really all I felt was relief and pity.

I looked around and saw similar furniture, in the same place as I had it.  Beds, tables, lounges.  I don’t suppose there is much that can be changed in some respects but still it made me smile as I saw it.  I saw the tiles I selected on the floors, I saw the air conditioner I purchased on the wall and realised that my ghost is in that house.

It wasn’t just me that said it either.  It was said to me earlier by another, that although I would be gone from the house my presence would be there.  My choices of plants in the garden, the landscaping of the garden all discussed with me.  Animals purchased with me.  Not just that but my life imprinted in those walls, the neighbours my friends, raising children within those walls.  The master room where I spent my sleeping hours and writing among other things.

My partner spent time with me there as well, but I am glad to be out.  Start afresh with my love, no memories to be around, nothing for children to comment about.  But it is still my house and I am able to wander in and out when I please.  Able to see what they try to do to remove my presence, amusing to me in many ways, I am in that house, I helped build it, I helped design it, my friends helped build it.  I am in that house in a very personal way.  I may not have got to finish it but it I am there.

Watching body language is also very telling.  Stiffness, proprietary touches and discomfort.  Gotta love that, it’s all food for books.  To see things happening in front of you is interesting.  To see it when truth is known is fascinating, especially when truth is known by all parties bar one.  And that one if they have any intelligence would know.  But as they say denial is a wonderful place to be.  I know I’ve been there often.  Refusing to accept the truth until you practically choke on it.  The body language tells all.  Which makes books more real to people.  Unable to look at me, moving away, stilted answers to easy questions.  But the nuances of it all is what grabs me.  Will grab readers.

Life continues to grow easier, my love supports me in ways I never knew and his desire to see me succeed is amazing to me.  I was writing through the night and he awoke, wrapped himself around me, told me he loved me and went back to sleep.  He would much rather me write with me in bed rather than me leaving the bed.  He wants me to write and is happy when I am.  He wants me to stretch out and be all that I am.

And so here I am, blogging, writing short stories, and working on my novels.  All in the middle of the night when I am at my most creative.  Who knew a person could help set you free?

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~ by Bron on October 23, 2012.

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