I put your picture away....

There's a picture of us in his camera, it's a particularly cold summer's day and we're dining alfresco outside the paella place in Burroughs market. You got the hot dog, he got the cheese burger, I got the paella DUH! and free dessert, by smiling excessively, which you're asking me not to eat before my lunch arrives. You're protesting about pictures as he backs up, we're laughing at something, you're being offensive in that adorable way, and we're laughing, he clicks, it's there digitalized for posterity, you and me, our camaraderie, the chemistry jumping off the screen at me....

Please bring about a cloud to rain on my work day!!!

*popat* remember that term??
we used to say it frequently in school, it implied that something meant to occur didn't
Today's media hype about highest tide in 100 years etc led to theschool declaring a half day, pre-emptive strike, like saying ha! in your face flood we've all gone home!!!
But alas the rain played truant, and to add insult to injury for the MET dept, the sun is shining and weater is sweaty (and bob marley is turning in his grave) tra la la la la
All in a day for an overworked underpaid girl.

TONIGHT I'M CLEANING OUT MY CLOSET

Our room is a mess and starting a new life together meant making space..

Space: both physical and emotional

So when he decided to clean out his "space" I felt a slight trepidation, since the contents were rumoured to be highly personal, love letters phone mubers childhood paraphenelia and He is excessively private, guards his privacy, like ceberus guards hades, I respect that, and we never go through each others stuff, pick up eachothers phones unless expressedly asked to do so, so I was still undecided whether I should stay in the room, for I felt like I was trespassing, but I didn't want to watch tv or anything, I almost asked him what to do!!!! finally choosing to sit on top of the bed, out of view and read....out of his way.

I could however, still hear him, seated on the floor amidst a sea of memories, his feeelings audible, I felt like a voyeur....so imagine my surprise when he asked me to join him on the floor to partake of the nostalgia, again that mixed feeling as I took an uncertain seat beside him, there it was the disclaimer, you can only read if you refuse to comment or ask questions, I almost got up and left, but overode the instict and verbalized my feelings, why haflway I asked? familiar lump in my throat, why halfway.....still safe in the security of privicay when here I am, heart on sleeve, bare naked uncensored me....I made an allowance in this instance, choosing to be there for him, on his terms, I took the paper, pretty words about a perfect girl, word art in the form of poetry, couldn't help but elicit some form of jealousy, I had come to late in his life, this was a side i hadn't been fortunate to see, such words were never written by him for me....

but I stayed there because the feeling of being part of something he wanted to share was more important....

I thought maybe I should tell him how I feel, but I feared it would push him further into himself, I could hear the argument as if his was already making it, 'How can I tell you how I feel if you're gonna get upset and react like that'

But then I thought I'd say it here, he may read it he may not, but it had to be said, because if you're feeling safe to share something with me, then i want to be feeling safe to tell you....how I feel too.