Amour is such a light and femur thing... We hold love to our bosom, planting kisses on its forehead, gently inhaling its wonderous scents. and finally at the end of each warm evening, we tuck it into the waiting wooden cot in the corner over there, wrapping the warm woollen blankie around love's soft form, whispering hope to its slumbering breaths...
We whisht to our love sweet nothings, we covet love's beauty, its youth, brightness and warmth... We follow in its milk-tainted swathes, as it encircles us securely in love, light and lasting longing.
And later. In those Teenage Years, we find that self-same love can shatter like a slender teardrop of glass - Over-heated, stretched to capacity, blown out like a bauble to more than full-length and then all its favours, its character, are lost...
And so we tiptoe around love's crib, being careful not to tread on the razor-sharp slivers of glass that remain. And we feel pain, and a tender, twisting torment against our souls that hurts and wounds our paper-thin, parent-skin.
Yours,
Fhina-Fee x
P.S. Can you guess yet, what's kept me from you these past few days/weeks, mes bloggy Bloggeros y Bloggeristas?
I'll give you a clue...
It involves Teenage Tantrums and Torments, Misunderstood Youth, and Women On The Edge Of A Nervous Breakdown... Oui, c'est moi! I did publish this in a fledgeling form at Mad, Manic Mamas earlier this week, but I've picked at it like a scab since then... Doesn't misery love company?
P.P.S Things are a little better now, so I'm not fishing for sympathy here, but I've been in a dark, dark place where only Trolls seem to dwell of late... Toodle-pip mes bloggy beauties! A toute a l'heure as the in Seine say...
11 comments:
Jesus! Those damned teenagers! They'll do it every time!
Do you want me to send Veggie in search of him????
Hang in there. Always remember your overall goals in the relationship as you handle the individual situations (from the mom of 4 adult children, 1 teen, and 1 toddler :).
Wonderfully visual post, Fhina. Loving causes pain. Love in itself is painful,as the breath leaves the body high on exhaltation and adrenelin floods to every pore. If we did not love there would be no pain save the pain of yearning for it. Having gained it we fear its loss as the years strip away the need for us. We remember listening for each breath as now we wait for each phone call and 'Hi,Mum.'
They DO remember and they DO forgive our mistakes. I would not be a man for a billion pounds for, though they do know love, our gift is greater.
I hate to worry you here but my teenage angst and path of destruction lasted until I was about 27 - and is the reason I decided not to have kids. I'm sure Grizzz will grow out of it sooner than me though.
Keep on battling, Fhi and come back to us soon.
x
Such a beautiful description of love!
Hope you manage your teen troubles...
I feel your pain. Those razor sharp slivers feel all around me sometimes. Teens! I wake up and wonder what the heck I'm doing wrong almost every day. Lovely, painful and true post- feel better :)
Dearest Fhina,
You have indeed espressed this phenomenon in the most beautiful words.
Whenever you find yourself in a strange place, just think on Paris!
What a beautiful post...you capture love, trust and innocence lost in painfully exquisite words...this is poetry disguised as prose! Hoping that things continue to improve...so sorry that you have had to walk this way this week. My heart is with you~Janine XO
If they could figue out how to have babies without them turning into teenagers. Hang in there Fhina!
Glad to hear that all is back on even keel. And toodlepip is reminding me of our friend MA. (I'm assuming that's how you found my blog - maybe not) Anyhoo, hang in there!
I'll laways remember Rosemary sayong "Oh my God, this is not a dream, this is really happening!"
Life is like that.
Secretia
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