We all feel the need to be attached to something, to keep us from floating, boundless as if on the surface of the moon.
But to what? And to whom?
The man that I am seeing has a daughter who is turning ten. I took them out for lunch yesterday to celebrate and tried to breathe through the periods of silence. I understand when she clings to his arm and looks at me, only slightly defiantly but nonetheless with a claim, “mine.” I gave her a bracelet of carnelian stones falling long on her tiny wrist. I wonder if she will wear it or if it will be discarded, forgotten. What could it – or I – possibly mean to her? Having no experience with children, absolutely none, ever, I am nervous on these occasions. I simply try to breathe and be present, knowing at the very least to talk to her on the level she wishes, which is quite a serious one. Only rarely do I receive her smile.
Will this coupling last long enough that I will gain her trust? I am still working on gaining my own, also with a claim, “mine.” For me. I find the terrain underneath my feet wet, then dry and smoothe, then burning deep under this particular heat.
At ten, who did I belong to? The wind, the trees, certainly, but also to the letters that were my pearls linked in a row as books opened worlds that I could not have possibly dreamt. We had moved to a very big Victorian house but rather than roam its rooms, 23 in number, I would hide in my oak-lined closet to read for hours on end. There, I felt centered and knew I was where I belonged. Hidden amidst the lives of others, I learned.
Again in these past days, I am finding refuge in novels as if looking for clues. How to be, what to believe in, both in the grand scheme and the minutiae. I don’t think that I quite realized how very long it would take to build something anew that I could attach myself to. And there is still, two years in, no solid structure in my life that reassures. That is a very long time to hold one’s breath and hope for the best. For now, the only link I really trust enough to put my weight into is the oldest one within me, love.
Mais malgré tout, j’ai toujours des questions. I think it is normal, considering the present logistics and the recent past. Who truly loves me? Who do I truly love? What makes me sing? Where do I go to live my dreams? This is my daily life. Every single morning I awake with questions in my head, thoughts racing, sometimes regrets, usually fatigue but also with quieter songs of comfort and pride.
Oh, how I do feel that I am holding on to the balloon of “me” to be tethered to the ground. This girl, this redhead girl with blue eyes, still, in essence, at ten. Attached is where my heart goes. To remind me, beating, that I am not only this eternal loop of asking. These letters, forming words are the ribbon. How I wonder at the possibility to just…let them go, to let it all fly…free.
We aren't there yet, but if we get there yes!
Thank you so much for your wishes JeanGenie!
Naomi, you are so awesome. 🙂 And the leaving out the swearing part is much easier when talking in French! In English…it would be harder. "you can take the girl outta New York butcha can't…"
Thank you Donna.
Dear Heather:
I read your post when it was first shared, but have been thinking about a response…
First, with this new child of ten in your life, at the moment…know that "he" will not always be her "mine". Children can always spot struggle; sometimes they cause it. They dislike questions, but prefer conversation. Find out what her passions are (reading, painting, movies, etc.). Share yours with her. When the three of you are together, and the silence is audible, pick up your camera and ask if you can take a photo of the two of them; don't include yourself, unless she invites you. Then "shoot" away…the farm, candid shots of her, things she loves, animals, etc. Then share them with her…make an album for her…ask her to show you her favorite, secret beautiful places to photograph; let her choose, making her a partner in this adventure. This is how she will discover the real you!
Secondly, your new friend (him)…there is no definition I know of that will let you know this is love! You will feel it in a way that differs from other relationships…and if it turns out that he is only a good friend, that is still a gift. Personally speaking, as an adult, the idea of "mine" always interrupts my breathing (not in a good way). It makes me feel confined, constricted, wanting to push away. For me, mutual love is "ours", trusting and respecting each other enough to know we would never do anything to hurt each other…a rare find! As always, Heather, I wish you love, peace, and beautiful adventures. Angela Muller
Thank you Daniel, tip of the hat to you for the recognition as it is deeply appreciated.
One of your best "letters", Heather!!!
P.S. Congratulations 700!
Patience and space for all of you to be yourselves, all the above advice seems sound! Wishing you luck, as always, on all journeys and attachments 🙂
Patience & time will bring the change needed for this young girl to come around. As she becomes better acquainted with you, she will see you as a great friend. You are far too kind & interesting a person for that to go unrecognized. So glad you are in this relationship. Sounds like it has some very rich & promising possibilities!