the story

She spent the afternoon lying in a field surrounded by wild flowers, and bewildering views. Her white cotton dress stained from the earth. She watched the day pass her by, dancing and laughing and taking in all that was around her. Exhausted she finally fell to knees and lay back to watch the clouds and let her imagination run free. This was her favourite past time. She would imagine whole worlds and lives playing out in her head; it was much easier than dealing with the realities of this world. This world was full of disappointment and deceit. She could lie in one spot for hours just picturing what went on behind closed doors, and the romance that resided in other peoples hearts.
She was a true romantic, and took pleasure in the simple things. She believed that their was poetry that lived within the hearts of those around her, but most were just too stubborn or selfish to notice. She too had poetry, but her gentle heart ached to recite it.
There is a boy she adores, a boy so wonderful that even his faults seemed perfect to her. A boy with eyes so deep that you could be forever lost in them, and eyes that when set upon you, it was like they could read your deepest desires and inner most truths. Sadly however, he belonged to another.
A clap of thunder broke her train of thought. The clouds were becoming darker and denser, with the promise of rain. She loved the rain; everything about it made her heart sing. The smell, the feel, the way when it washed over you everything seemed cleansed and new, and for that short time nothing else mattered. It must have been close to evening, and the sky darkened quickly. With another clap of thunder the rain fell from above with an almighty force. She rose from the earth, dusted her self off, and climbed onto her bike before cycling away.
She missed the turn off for her street, her mind unfocused, it was her heart that was taking control. Her vision blurred from the rain, she knew she should stop, but she was determined to make it to her destination. She followed her heart’s pull and when she reached the front of his house, she threw her bike to one side, letting it fall into the gutter.
She stood there for a moment trying to collect her thoughts, reason finally catching up to her. Before her mind could take control, she looked up, and there he was.
Her heart pounded so loud, that she could swear that it could be heard over the rain. He looked at her with those beautiful blue eyes, full of questions and confusion.
She looked down at herself, knowing that she must look like a mess, her cotton dress clingy to her body and her hair tangled and soaked.
His voice broke her from her own thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Oh his voice was like a thousand angels singing in perfect harmony, it drove her wild and made her dizzy.
Drunk with his presence, she blurted out everything that she had ever wanted to say to him, but had always been to afraid to say.
“I think about you a lot. More than a lot. When I’m not with you, I yearn to be by your side, and then when I do see you or hear from you, my heart pounds in my chest and the butterflies in my stomach flutter like crazy. I know what I am saying doesn’t make sense, but I am speaking from my heart. I want to be with you, and even though I know that you have someone else in your life, maybe you want to be with me too. So here I am, putting my heart out there, hoping that you will take it.”
A few moments went by without words being exchange by either person. She chewed her lip nervously, slowly starting to panic. The thunder crashed around them, the rain falling even harder now. She had thought about how this moment might play out a few times before. This was the part where he would run over to her, grab her ever so passionately and kiss her in the pouring rain. He would then declare his love for her, and tell her it was always her that haunted his dreams, and they would live happily ever after.

His gaze locked onto hers. Eyes apologetic, he replied “I’m sorry” in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Even over the rain, the words were loud and clear and wounded her like a thousand knives piercing into her flesh.
She gave a slight nod of understanding, and turned around and began to walk away.
He watched her walk off into the darkness, leaving her bike behind.
Thankful that the rain masked her tears, and the thunder muffled her sobs, she sat on the porch of her home. She didn’t want to disturb anyone inside.
She felt alone in the world, and her dreams now leaving her empty inside. It was impossible to believe that her wounds would one day heal, but she let the melodic rhythm of the rain around her send her off into sleep.
Tomorrow was a new day.

life and death

There comes a time in a persons life when we realise that we are nothing more than mortal. As frail as porcelain and breakable like your mothers good china that she only brings out on special occasions.
We are easily battered and bruised, our skin as soft as the flesh of fruit, easily pierced through by hard or sharp implements, like a knife or teeth.
Death is imminent, and no amount of magic potion can deter it. We will all be greeted by the cool dark hands of death, clutching his long fingers tightly around your wrist, ready to lead you to another realm of being.
How does it make you feel?
Are you nervous or frightened or possibly brave in the face of death; after all 'to die would be an awfully big adventure'.
It was Peter Pan who said that - although he would never grow old to experience death knocking quietly on his tree house door.
Without death we wouldn't find meaning in life. Immortality would cause us to stop living.
Life isn't a competition of how many days we can survive, but how many moments in life stop our hearts for that split second when we experience something wonderful.
Life is fleeting.
It is that boy on the train that unlocks the cages we hold inside ourselves, setting the butterflies free, but we know that we will never feel his embrace.
It is the sound of the waterfall deep within a forest that only the animals can hear - it's so remote that we will never reach it.
It is the cotton candy at the carnival - a sweet rush that disappears as soon as it hits your tongue, leaving nothing but a pink colouring over your lips.
life is fleeting and short and we can't remedy it. It will end and you will die. We all will die.
However with every sickness there is a treatment plan.
Find the things that warm your heart and expand your mind.
Always dream - there is nothing sweeter than a blissful state of reverie.
Remain barefoot so you can feel the sand between your toes, or the grass tickling the soles of your feet. Let the earth grow around you and with you, your legs becoming like the roots of a mighty tree and your arms, branches.
If you must wear shoes, wear them for dancing. Moving in time with your heartbeats, your body reflecting and recreating the rhythm in your soul.
Fall in love often and with no inhibitions. Let your bodies fall into place like a puzzle and emerse yourself in the sensual pleasures exposed when bodies melt together.
Never lose your passions, they are what will sustain you throughout your short existance.
So maybe Peter Pan had it right all along - to die WOULD be an awfully big adventure, but not until we have experienced all the other adventures in life can we truly find peace and adventure in death.