Your love pushed me through walls of pain, caused me inexplicable grief and forced me to face myself. Your love has kept me believing that life can be better, that past can be put to rest, and that life is worth living still. Your love is constant, even when you roar, stomp, or confront my bitterness. You are surprisingly tender and need me when I least expect it; I feel honored by your vulnerability. Now, I face more pain; pain not from threat, regardless of life breaking. I sit and watch you live from the sidelines and want much more for you. I want to roll in the grass, make love in the forest, move my body in sync with yours…but I can’t. I can smile and feel the tears spilling from my eyes, sometimes laugh at your ridiculous attempts to amuse me, but I can never be the lover you once knew, your strength or release. For this, my true love, I am sorry. For it is not me who leaves you, alit by the frame of my spirit that awakened when I saw your arctic eyes, felt your strong embrace, and the one I have known as my lover from our first kiss. No matter where pain takes me, nor the realms that separate us, know. KNOW. You are the love of my life in beauty and in sorrow.
Originally from the USA, I have resided in Sweden for twenty years. I am tucked away in the forest in an old farmhouse from the early 1700's along with my husband, two spoiled and uncaged house bunnies and one young adult who has not flown from her nest. I have three free roaming Hedemora chickens in the barnyard. I began writing before kindergarten by making curly loops on lined notebook paper and reading them out loud to my mother and babysitter who found my imagination quite hilarious. Years ago while taking a creative writing course I began a novel, "Tea With Nanny" and with my grandmother's push to finish it, I did so after she died. I self-published on Amazon and like most first novels I want to eat the book and swallow it whole out of embarrassment. Stateside I wrote for small private newspapers on the side while attending nursing school. After developing a hereditary disease that affects my spine and skeletal system I rediscovered my need to write which has proven both therapeutic mentally and my art form. I love writing poems and little diddy's which led me to write a song "Moving On," which was just released on Spotify.