You...

Waking up in the same bed as you as I am sore as hell now but it has always been nothing but a pleasure... Feeling your warm skin and your breath on me has never been more real. For a small time in the mornings I can close my eyes and be with you and amazingly the entire world and all its happenings for a brief moment makes sense...

I don't have anything to offer you except myself... This being slightly damaged now, but still I give you everything I am without hesitation or the least bit of reluctance. I know you only experience absolute clarity later in life, but I have it now... Waking up next to you in the mornings makes me the happiest person I can be.

We may not have jewels and furs, but we have love, and the adventure of being there for each other while we face the challenges of the world together.

As I hand my life to a surgeon today for the third time, I know in my heart that I am smiling the widest smile possible. I know that our tears for each other were not in vain and that one day, when I die an old man, I will do so with a heart full of love, compassion and understanding for you as is humanly possible.

You have been there for me through my sorrow, you have watched me experience gladness and today and every other day, even though I have experienced your absolute compassion every day, I saw the look on your face that I want to carry with me in my heart for the rest of my life.... As that of my soulmate!

More love can never be shared between two people. I know the days will come in the near future where we will enjoy swimming in clear blue water together and where we will be able to giggle about all the trials of our past! Most importantly thank you for sharing the load with me and for holding my hand when I shrink back from facing up to my fears.

Thank you for being there, with love for me when I have been trying to be a stronger person. For the understanding of what I may be experiencing without words being shared and for the joy that can be shared when I have finally crossed this struggle and entered back into normality.

I know I say it to you every day, but I really, well and truely love you...

Recovery...

What a wurlwind three months it has been!

I had a car accident and was thankfully found by a policewoman. I was on my way to dinner with a friend. Than kfully she found me. I was unconscious with a right arm broken in two places, a dislocated neck and a brain that was torn off the lining on the left hand side of the inside of my scull. I spent three weeks in a coma in hospital and got pneumonia that they struggled to cure. My family watched me wither away into nothing as I lost 20kg’s. I then spend two weeks after waking up in traction due to the dislocation.
I was fed by John just about every day bar for the time he had to go spend with family. And finally made it out of hell after 5 weeks agonizing surgery and a cast on my arm. As I am writing this I still haven’t regained movement completely in my right arm…it’s a work in progress. I am thankful every day for being loved and being appreciated and hope I never take anyone in my life for granted again.
I am still quite upset about a few things and am working my way around how I feel about them and how my mind is working sans accident. It teaches you to slow down and appreciate things more…
I am close to tears about still being alive…. Being able to be given a second chance and letting go of some issues of the past…
I don’t know if I am more or less erratic than I was before but I find it more difficult to hide emotion and it has proven to get me into some trouble so far.
Let’s hope this year is filled with love, life and a good future as I learn more on my path to becoming more man…

The Promise - Oria Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.' It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
‎​I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

New Shoes - Paolo Nutini

Woke up cold one tuesday,I'm looking tired and feeling quite sick,I felt like there was something missing in my day to day life,So I quickly opened the wardrobe,Pulled out some jeans and a T-Shirt that seemed clean,Topped it off with a pair of old shoes,That were ripped around the seams,And I thought these shoes just don't suit me.

Hey, I put some new shoes on,And suddenly everything is right,I said, hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody's smiling,It so inviting,Oh, short on money,But long on time,Slowly strolling in the sweet sunshine,And I'm running late,And I dont need an excuse,'cause I'm wearing my brand

new shoes.

Woke up late one thursday,And I'm seeing stars as I'm rubbing my eyes,And I felt like there were two days missing,As I focused all the time,And I made my way to the kitchen,But I had to stop from the shock of what I found,A room full of all my friends dancing round and round,And I thought hello new shoes,Byebye them blues.

Take me wondering through these streets,Where bright lights and angels meet,Stone to stone they take me on,I'm walking to the break of dawn.

*Tick*Tick*Tick* .... BANG!!!

We read articles, self help books, watch Sex and the City and listen to advice about relationships from friends and those more experienced than ourselves. We lay awake at night rethinking text messages, tone of voice in phone calls, dinner plans and card greetings.

We stand in the super market for ages wondering what to get for dinner, which wine he will like and what dessert will induce sex. We spend our time with our new partners deciphering body language, getting to know their characteristic traits and looks and drive ourselves mad during kissing sessions of what may be going through his mind, if your breath stinks, if you should have applied lip balm before starting. We drive ourselves to distraction!

Why? Why do we go on and on about things in our minds? Why is this constant drive to be completely perfect plaguing our quality of relationships and is this the main cause for failure of gay relationships? Are we so worried of not living up to our dating/Facebook profiles of the extremist perfect branding of ourselves that it could destroy our quality of life?

It has recently been told to me that I am mad. I know I am eccentric, I like being eccentric, but I realized that I am somewhat inconsistent in love and life. Is it due to age? Lack of experience? Or what I have stated above?

Does knowing more about our lovers make it more difficult for us to make informed and decisive decisions when it comes to our relationships? Are we so completely obsessed to have the perfect lover, life, car, job, wardrobe, sporting ability, and body that it consumes all the little pleasures that we do not allow ourselves to enjoy. Life doesn’t carry on forever and neither does your teenage hairline.

Is the DINK (Double income no kids) lifestyle aging us at the same rate 2 screaming brats and a bond would? The cover model/Conde Nast lifestyle doesn’t seem to be for the faint hearted and more importantly is our “switched on-ness” going to switch us off eventually?

Do we wake up in our mid thirties, walk to the bathroom scratching our flannel wedgy, get to the mirror – La Mer EyeCreme wand in hand – and let out a blood curdling scream when we see our reflections? When do we not realize that we need to stop and smell the roses along the way?
Thankfully I am now with someone that forces me to see the everyday. Not the weekend, or next month or the 5 year plan and as the epitome of the W.A.S.P it is taking time for me to slow myself down.

The question is, how do we change our natures to be kinder to ourselves in the long run? That’s right… another thing to worry about!

Prep Tastic

Herewith some rules of dress for my fellow preppiens!

We wear sportswear. This makes it easier to go from sporting events to social events (not that there is much difference) without changing.

We generally underdress. We prefer it to overdressing.

Your underwear must not show. Wear a nude-colored strapless bra. Pull up your pants. Wear a belt. Do something. Use a tie!

We do not display our wit through T-shirt slogans.

Every single one of us—no matter the age or gender or sexual preference—owns a blue blazer.

We take care of our clothes, but we're not obsessive. A tiny hole in a sweater, a teensy stain on the knee of our trousers, doesn't throw us.

We do, however, wear a lot of white in the summer, and it must be spotless.

Bags and shoes need not match.

Jewelry should not match, though metals should.
On the other hand, your watch doesn't have to be the same metal as your jewelry.
And you can wear gold with a platinum wedding band and/or engagement ring.

Men's jewelry should be restricted to a handsome watch, a wedding band if he is American and married, and nothing else. If he has a family-crest ring, it may be worn as well. For black-tie, of course, shirt studs and matching cuff links are de rigueur.

Nose rings are never preppy.

Neither (shudder) are belly-button piercings.

Nor are (two shudders) tongue studs.

And that goes for ankle bracelets.

Tattoos: Men who have been in a war have them, and that's one thing. (Gang wars don't count.) Anyone else looks like she is trying hard to be cool. Since the body ages, if you must tattoo, find a spot that won't stretch too much. One day you will want to wear a halter-necked backless gown. Will you want everyone at the party to know you once loved a man called Bo?

Sneakers (a.k.a. tennis shoes, running shoes, trainers) are not worn with skirts.

Men may wear sneakers with linen or cotton trousers to casual summer parties.

Women over the age of 15 may wear a simple black dress. Women over the age of 21 must have several in rotation.

High-heel rule: You must be able to run in them—on cobblestones, on a dock, in case of a spontaneous foot race.

Clothes can cost any amount, but they must fit. Many a preppy has an item from a vintage shop or a lost-and-found bin at the club that was tailored and looks incredibly chic.

Do not fret if cashmere is too pricey. Preppies love cotton and merino-wool sweaters.

We do not wear our cell phones or BlackBerrys suspended from our belts.

Real suspenders are attached with buttons. We do not wear the clip versions.

Learn how to tie your bow tie. Do not invest in clip-ons.

Preppies are considerate about dressing our age. It is for you, not for us.

Men, if you made the mistake of buying leather sandals, please give them to Goodwill.

You may, however, wear flip-flops to the beach if your toes are presentable. Be vigilant!

Pareos (sarongs) are for the beach, not for the mall. (Even if it's near the beach.)

Riding boots may be worn by non-riders; cowboy boots may be worn by those who have never been on a horse. However, cowboy hats may not be worn by anyone who isn't technically a cowboy or a cowgirl.

You may wear a Harvard sweatshirt if: you attended Harvard, your spouse attended Harvard, or your children attend Harvard. Otherwise, you are inviting an uncomfortable question.

No man bags.

Preppies don't perm their hair.

Preppy men do not believe that comb-overs disguise anything.

You can never go wrong with a trench coat.

Sweat suits are for sweating. You can try to get away with wearing sweats to carpool, to pick up the newspaper, or to drive to the dump, but last time you were at the dump, the drop-dead-attractive widower from Bishopscourt was there, too.

And finally:

The best fashion statement is no fashion statement.

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