79. Indoor fireworks


fireworks 1


Just like fire would, I burn up
Just like fire would
Just like fire would, I burn up

The Saints, Just like fire would

If you’ve read my fumbling efforts at poetry on this blog, you might get the impression I’m building a kind of mythology around my love for Jersey girl, a kind of a Cinderella with naughty bits sort of thing. Comparing your love to meteors and firestorms tends to lend a certain grandiosity to what is after all just a tale of two people who fell in love.

The truth is, though, my life pre-Jersey was a pretty barren place. Much of it resembled Dickens’ Bleak House. I don’t mean that in a literal or physical sense – in so many ways my life has been amazing – I’m speaking of my emotional life.

The day my son was born, I began to come awake. In the moment I held him in my arms for the very first time, I discovered what love actually was. I felt my center drift out from my own selfish heart and into his pure, unsullied, being.

I was rocked by this and the realisation that I had never felt anything remotely like it before. Finally, I knew what unconditional love was and it was nothing like what I’d always called love at all. Everything I’d ever felt prior to that moment paled in comparison. Sadly, even after having such a profound experience, I went on with my life of loving others with far, far less of myself than I gave to my boy.

Then Jersey girl came along. For the first time since that morning when I held my tiny son, I felt the intensity of a fully opening heart. Again I was rocked by how complex and yet utterly simple my feelings were. I wanted nothing from her, only to be allowed to love her completely. The thought that something might prevent that was unbearable.

And that is what I try, with admittedly limited success, to convey in my writing. The sense of the entire world suddenly going Technicolor (like that moment in the Wizard of Oz), that sensation of the heart opening up like a flower (not some delicate little daisy thing either – something balls-out like a sunflower). And the passion, the simply insane amount of passion, that comes with a love this intense.

It’s not a mythology I’m trying to construct here. I’m simply attempting to find the right combination of largely inadequate words to express these pyrotechnic emotions I’m experiencing. In short, I’m using you, my dear readers, as a kind of sounding board to help me achieve a deeper understanding of this amazing alternative reality I’ve tumbled into.

You’re cool with that, yeah?


Words and image are my own.



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