A life update…and some things I’ve been keeping secret

Holly Cassell The Persephone Complex
Sometimes it is easy to talk; the words come flowing out, impossible to stop, effortless and unrelenting. There are times when we want to share ourselves, when the sharing helps, and eases our mind. But for the last couple of months, I haven’t wanted to blog about my own life, or dissect interactions the way I used to do. When I first started blogging, there were times when I almost felt sorry for the poor people reading, who were often (judging by the comments) in floods of tears at my diary-like entries. Lately, although a lot has happened (both good and bad) I have wanted to use my blog as a immovable space; somewhere beautiful no matter what ups and downs I was riding. I didn’t want to examine, analyse, and relive the changes that were occurring all around me. I didn’t want to breathe them in too deeply, and allow them to drown me. Now that I have arrived in a better place, and feel able to breathe again, I can at least state the facts. In the last few months I have been through a family bereavement, a break-up, dating, more heartbreak, my horrific hormonal rollercoaster, and finally, a major relocation out of my father’s house, to the peaceful white apartment I write in now, just outside Cardiff. Things have worked out for me, I think; and it is only because of that, that I am able to write. I’ve met somebody I  like, and for once, I am taking it slow. I’ve found a place I am happy to exist, and the relief is like coming up for air.

I intend to raise succulent plants here. Perhaps a tortoise. My brother is my only room-mate. We have wanted this for such a long, long time; to just be together in our own space, with wooden floors and an echo, where I can blog and he can study in peace. We sit and laugh together on the floor of our sofa-less living room piled up with books, and it is blissful just to hear the birds chirping and make toast for us both in the morning. I could write about this better. I could write something that would make me cry as I put the words down, and make you cry as you read them. But I won’t do that. I think we’ve all cried enough.

No comments:

Post a Comment