The LOVE Bug
The photo above fell out of my old travel diary, I recall pinching it from my Father’s album years before. It was proof our parents were not that different from us. I love the scene, it draws you in and I still wonder who the cheeky couple, caught up in that intense embrace were. My Auntie sits in the foreground a shining example of the carefree youth of yesterday. There is something deliciously wicked about this photo, the lovers blissfully unaware that the world is watching.
When the love bug struck, the concern of losing my inner strength, that certain resilience all singles need for survival played heavily on my mind. I started to rely on his calls, feel lonely in my one bedroom apartment, when he was not there. I dissolved into a soft puddle of emotional wanting. Something I told myself I would never do. At first it felt strange, someone else other than myself, looking out for me.
When you open your heart you feel vulnerable, yet I often ponder on the thought; if I had not given love a chance, where would I be now?
Reading back through the diary I found the single me, before I met my partner. It was good to reminisce and see life, full of potential, always planning my next adventure overseas; changing my career in the blink of an eye. The photo’s are a burst of pure energy, my skin young, glowing and tight. The figure, sports slim, I only now approaching my fifties appreciate this. Yet as my party days dragged on and I began to pine for that special someone to share my life, It became clear that he was a no-show.
Don’t get me wrong I was a strong person who never needed a man to keep me going. I was far too independent and this probably scared most men away, when I think of how sarcastic I was. I opened my own doors, went to events without a partner and lived alone, city life was full of friends, and entertainment. It was not until the loss of my brother that I felt a deep sense of longing. The need for a shoulder to cry on, a certain comfort that only your soul mate can fill. Yet I came through the pain on my own, with the help of family, it put a new perspective on my life. When I finally met the man of my dreams, I knew instantly he had a good heart.
The diary also cemented my writing life, it has been with me through the highs and the lows. Mostly I wrote when life became difficult. Happiness is rarely written about because we are living it, when I am down, the need to write is much stronger. All those years filling up pages has assisted me on this path. The urge to learn this craft came from starting those diaries twenty years ago. I look back at them, I laugh, I cry, I have evolved. I am ready to share my writing with others, this photo inspired me to write today.
Tell me when did you know, you wanted to write?