Competitions

Life is about the survival of the fittest. We all watch nature programmes where we see life having to fight to eat, drink and reproduce. It looks tough in the animal world but perhaps no tougher than ours. I am not suggesting that we are all going around ready to fight for food but life is about competition and being the best that you can in order to survive.

There is competition in business, having recently set up my own business I know that it is a cut-throat world where the bold win clients, reputations and success. Of course, there are ways in doing so. Winning respect and trust from a client is of most importance, it is about nurturing, delivering and exceeding expectations. That is how you grow a business. It isn't a quick win scenario but something that develops over time and what ensures that you survive the storms such as an economic downturn.

There is competition in love and in winning the heart of someone you care deeply about. Sometimes the competition becomes fierce. It turns people into spiteful, jealous beings who will up the stakes to ensure that they are the ones who receive first prize. Games within games start to be played with tactics then becoming about simply beating the other person and not about finding something amazing with someone, that thing that we call love.

I will fight for what I want and what I believe in but I will do it the correct manner. I will always keep the upper hand and know when enough is enough. You can only try so much but by nurturing, building trust and taking time, the opportunities continue to flourish and you survive; standing tall and feeling proud.

A break in the story

I am a dreamer. And I have to say I do believe. I believe in the happily-ever-after and that good things do come to those that wait. I have to believe in that because, honestly, I have been waiting for some things for a long time, it is better to think that way than complain that life can be so bloody unfair.

I am of the conclusion that I am to sort my career out first before any of the good stuff comes along. That maybe it is my destiny to set up my own business and work for myself before a prince comes and sweeps me off my feet.

So I have been trying to turn my attention to doing that and setting up a marketing business – something small to begin with, but which gives me the freedom to explore that I can see being missed and look at new and very exciting opportunities.

It takes the focus away from something else not working out. Which has been painfully sad and something that hurts at the pit of my stomach. But I will take from it what I can, another lesson – a reason, season or lifetime lesson, which time will only tell.

In the meantime, I do what I do best and that is pick myself up, dust myself off and keep believing that my fairytale story is out there and that all will become good in The End.

Pear Drops and Dreams

He didn’t know that he was the pot of gold at the end of her rainbow, or that he was the only star she sought in the darkness of the night sky. He didn’t know that her smile was always for him, that her being in the window every morning as he passed, was never just by chance. He didn’t know that he filled her dreams every night and that she woke with his smile on her mind. He didn’t know that her blushes were for him as stood in line whilst she stumbled over quarters of multi-coloured sweetness. But what she didn’t know was that his sweet tooth was for her and her smile which warmed the coldest of days was why he walked an extra half- mile every day.

Lazy love

whatever happened to the days
spent entwined
under lazy summer sun
to where did the beat
of my completed heart
unknowingly fade
I once stood on a crowded platform
to say goodbye to summer love
tears embracing pain
as fingertips fell and prints erased
too much to lose
you stepped back off the train
and back in to my arms
whatever happened to those times
when we were the sum of all else to come

Somedays I love you

A shadow creeps
Through a once loved heart
It states your reasons why
Yet believes the failing truth
Lust burns within
The soul makes judgements
On heartbeat promises
Believe in trusting the truth
Trust believing
Hope for trust
Trust hope

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.

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.