Misunderstood

You will never understand or be able to empathise with me.
I am many shades of grey. You are the deepest black or the brightest white.
I feel the way I do because I have compassion and acceptance.
You may think it absurd, you make think it naive.

You may call me names and ask me to explain.
I know I never can.
Words are elusive when I try to navigate through the grey.
I may be young but you should never discount how I feel

Please do not compare your feelings of love to mine.
They will never be the same.
I am under no illusion, I hold no idealist view.
I simply know how I feel and that you will never truly understand.

Time to watch

Train stations are good place to people watch.

Early on Friday evening I watched people piling off trains, rushing to get where they are going - rushing to meet loved ones. It made me think of all the thousands of people who travel to see people for weekends.

A train from London arrived and people streamed off the platform like ants. Once outside, some continued to rush onto their destination whilst others stopped. I watched several individuals pick a space where they felt comfortable to stand and wait. Some opted for open space, others preferred to stand against a wall or lean on a post.

There was a guy who looked dismayed as he wandered the pavement. I guessed that he was waiting for his girlfriend; he looked preened, his hair carrying the weight of many minutes of styling. I could smell his aftershave. He had dressed to impress and it showed he had been looking forward to seeing her.
There were three different girls stood in a triangle at equal distance apart. I thought that they were all students returning home for the weekend. I wondered what their weekends would involve, perhaps they had come home for a special family event, a friends birthday or some peace and quiet to study.
A man was sat on the bench next to me smoking a pipe; he looked too young to smoke a pipe. It made the air smell sweet. He didn't look like he was waiting for anyone; he looked like he was still working, busily tapping away on his state of the art mobile.
A group of young boys in skinny jeans were planning where they were going to go and 'hang out'. They too had made a lot of effort on their appearance- it was Friday night after all.
A young couple with lots of bags stood kissing and embracing at the taxi rank, I wondered if their adventure had just finished or was beginning. They looked happy and in love, it made me smile.
My thoughts shifted to me. Do I look uncomfortable? Who do I look like I am waiting for.

Moments

We are strolling through Portobello Market. I am holding his hand, fingers clasped, it fits and feels better than the last hand I held.
We amble for hours, browsing antiques and stalls, salivating at the sights and smells of local produce.
Everyone is dressed in vintage clothing, eclectic styles and a sea of bright colours.
I spot a girl in red shoes and purple tights. Her shoes are gorgeous, she is beautiful.
I wish I had put something else on this morning, something bright instead of my jeans and big winter coat.
We pass a music stall, Dinah Washington sings about being Mad about a Boy. He laughs and finds it funny.
We stop and he pulls me to him and kisses me.
He tells me he loves me.
I don't know what to say back.
He smiles the warmest smile and strokes my fringe off my face.
He tells me that I mean the world to him.
I feel warm inside, I feel loved.
I can't find the words. I want to say it but I can't. I want to say that I love him too, that he gives me something that I have never had. But I am scared of giving again, trusting again. I am not sure I even trust my own feelings, so for now I give him what I can, a smile and tender loving kiss.
We are still stood with our arms around each other in the middle of the market, slightly swaying the music; the song has changed and he sings to me. He continues to sing as we head back through the vibrancy, hands still clasped, locked in a moment.

Office atmosphere

I hate days like today. They are filled with awkwardness and tension. I don't like it when it is only the two of us in the office, it puts me on edge and makes me feel miserable.
As soon as I came in I plugged in my headphones, set my ITunes to shuffle and have been typing away since. No conversation. He tried some pleasantries to which I responded as best I could. I have my music up loud so I can't hear him drumming his fingers on the table in between typing and so I can't hear him lying.
He lies an awful lot about us as a company and what we can do but also when it comes to what he should have done or should be doing. It is very easy to catch him out. He doesn't understand the implications of his lies and the effect it has on the rest of the company, the staff who have to set the record straight and muggins here who often has to go behind him clearing up his tracks. He leaves a trail like a tornado, but it isn't material things that get damaged, it is people's feelings and pride.

We have talked about how we don't get on and how we clash but we don't quite know what to do about it or why. He thinks it is because we are similar ages. I think, actually I know it is because he has no values or morals. He is disrespectful, rude and a liability. He thinks that he has the right to read all of our emails when we are out of the office, take money from petty cash, slate our work, lie and eat food that doesn't belong to him. To him, he has the right because he isn't staff he is a director. I think it is shocking behaviour.
So, for today, whilst it is just us in our office I will keep my head down, look busy and stayed tuned into my music. He will think I am am the 'Ice Queen' with an array of issues.
I think I will listen to the Beach Boys, warm sunny feelings.

Something that made me go hummm!

I recently found a tape that I have been looking for years. It was in the most obvious place, next to my Cd's (where else would a cassette tape be!) I am not sure when it appeared there, but I know that it hasn't always been sat on top 'Dance Hits of the 90's'.
I think it decided to show itself because I am at a time when I need to hear the voice that is recorded on it. The voice belongs to a clairvoyant. A women that I saw in Glastonbury a few years back. I remember that she wore black leather trousers and chewed gum incessantly, chewing and slurping because she put too much in her mouth. I think she said it helped her to 'tune in'.

At the time of seeing her, I was searching for answers from a world I didn't understand and which i thought I wanted to be involved in. I know now that it was just because of the woman that I went with and her beliefs. I don't think of that world now, I know that if I want answers then I have to make choices and that my life is molded by those decisions that I make.
I remember coming out of the 40 minutes with her and saying 'she doesn't know what she is talking about' and 'there is nothing wrong with my life and relationship'. She did know. Five years on and almost everything she said has happened. I listened to the tape in bed the other night, I was in constant goose bumps at the little things that she said that have come true; that I would have problems with my stomach, that I would receive a ruby ring and that my relationship would end but not before I have given it my all and pushed myself to exhaustion. I guess this helps me to justify those choices and decisions.
I am still quite skeptical about it but it is the details that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I am wondering now, whether I should see another to see what the next five years will bring.

Driving through daydreams

I do this a lot, mostly on the way into work. I daydream about conversations I would like to have with people where I am more confident and say exactly what I think and feel.
This morning I was daydreaming about what I might say to him and his response. But his response is not what he would actually say, it is what I want and need to hear but for this to happen it would involve a complete personality bypass, but then that is point of daydreaming, you can make the impossible happen.
I am suddenly at work, I don't recall driving. Were the traffic lights all green? What was my passenger talking about? Hope he doesn't think I am rude. It worries me that I can't remember my journey. It worries me that I have spent 20 minutes thinking of him.

Secrets

I have been thinking about how well we actually get to know friends and family. Aren't there always secrets? The unwritten rules of what is discussed and what it not, but why, to protect those closest to us, because we are embarrassed about people knowing what we really feel, or maybe because it has gone unsaid for so long that to tell and share now would be ludicrous. Keeping that little secret has become a way of life, it is now easy to keep things from those that you love, it comes naturally. Perhaps there is the worry that if people knew now, they would not forgive the years of concealment.
But what happens when you are made aware of this secret, when you are entrusted with information which is life changing for all involved. Do you bury the information and never mention it again or do you share and tell someone. Sometimes the information is too big to ignore, once it is inside your head you feel like you are going to explode. It excites yet fills you with anxiety.
I know things about people and it makes me feel sad because they can't be who they really are, not even when they are in the company of those that love them the most. Everyone knows that there is something being locked away, deep in the soul. We just accept and acknowledge that it is just the way things are, it is just the way they are.

Do you ever sit at your desk and think of me?

I think of you when I am at my desk. In between sending emails, answering the phone, making charts in spreadsheets, I always find time to think of you whether I have it or not. I imagine you sitting looking at similar charts, not really paying attention but thinking of me and better times. Or at least I hope you do.
I think about you more now than I did back then. I think about details instead of perhaps the insignificant daily routine like what you might like for dinner.
Today I am thinking of how you might be feeling, how you might be feeling about me. However insignificant, I would be comforted by the thought of you thinking of me, even if it were what I might be having for my dinner.