Dear Diary, Seperation

OMG it has been a roller coaster, emotional weekend, which should have been a magic one. Let me set the scene for you. My ex has been away in Thailand living a different life, away from his child and decides to come back and start looking after his boy again, which is great for my boys heart but I think for him, personally maybe not. So I drop him off and head off to my mans house to spend some time alone together, not thinking anything but and then my emotions take over without realising and I shut down like I used to with the ex, not fucking good, I hate this feeling of not feeling. I did not realise until later that I had shut down, feeling sick about my boy, is he ok?

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The Dirty House

Yes this is the house I grew up in, the high school days. My sister nick named it the “dirty house” which I never could see it as dirty only a poor house. The house was just off a busy main road slightly lower than the road, on a hill. It was a normal looking house front, door in the middle, with windows either side of the door, the kind of one you see in kids stories. A little garden at the front. Off to the left as you stand facing the front door was a big tree and a concrete hill under the tree, this is an important spot my foster mum and we used to sit at night until dad, who would be drunk, stopped abusing my foster mum and he  fell asleep.

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Past

Today I rang my step brother MH to find out where the box of photos and memories from my foster parents were that they had left for me. He rang around and found out they have been left in a wrecked car at the back of his block and ruined. He was so angry, MH just wanted to kill someone, that being my other step brother M, who has AIDS, bashes his kids and lives on a swampy bush block with no electricity in a caravan. Smoking, drugs kind of life style. Me being the type of person that blocks feelings out and could not be upset for something I never had.

My life with that step brother, M,  was not the best, he was the one who sexually abused me but hey, that’s something I’d would like to forget. This was, at the time, something that felt right because it felt like some one cared for me in a different way, but well what was I to think or say without causing trouble or bringing up shit feelings. As for MH he and I are the only ones who keep in contact since my foster parents died.

Dear diary

 

The tears we feel when we have no hope

The power we feel when we are alone

The magic we hope to find at the end of the rope

The time we suffer in silence hoping that no one will find us

find us in this state of depth of darkness

The lost little girl who no one believed

The diary she had to leave

Every thing was in that diary her heart her soul and her beliefs.

so this is where she ran away to the darkness and the darkness had begun

She was lost, never to be found… until now

this is where her life has just begun

her new journey with love around

 

 

 

a moment of magic

I lay on the couch waiting for my orders, a little tipsy from our lovely day and dinner together, waiting for my pleasure to take place.
He enters the room, coming from the bedroom with a smirk of lust on his face. He takes my hand and asked me who do I belong too, me saying “you sir”. he takes out a silk long black blind fold, rapping it gently and firm around my eyes asking “can you see little girl” me “no sir”. “good girl” he replies. Continue reading “a moment of magic”