Thursday, 30 December 2010


Everyone has to say them. Everyday. 
Some goodbyes are easy; the ones you know aren't forever, between you and your best friend you see everyday, or the ones you hope to be forever; date gone wrong, oddball for a man on the train who won't stop talking to you. 
Some are a lot harder; leaving someone you love dearly, whether that's only for a few days, a few weeks, a couple of months or a more immeasurable length of time. Burying someone in the ground is probably the hardest and most permanent goodbye, and one that no one ever wants to say.
But something I'm discovering is that no matter how many times you have to say it, the word 'goodbye' never gets any easier. Its only seven letters. Its a mere two syllables. It takes a second to say. 
But the finality of those seven letters, the emotional attachment to those two syllables, and the realisation that your loved one is gone one way or another in that second, is the reason that saying goodbye is the hardest thing to do. It might not be the longest word, but saying requires the strength to let go in one way or another. And hearing that seven letter, two syllable, one second word is perhaps the most brutal way of being introduced to it. 
-D. xoxo

Saturday, 4 December 2010


I've always said I live my life by clichés.
The dream of a knight in shining armour, and heartbreak being fixable, the thought of receiving 12 red roses on Valentines day, love being blind. If you love something, you have to set it free. Love conquers all. It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.
I dare say that it is still true; I still live my life by clichés. But it is dangerous business. Think about it. 
My dream of a knight in shining armour. I have to turn away countless losers in tin foil riding donkeys rather than a white horse; setting my standards way up there means I probably miss out on some really good people.
Heartbreak being fixable. Its never fully repaired. Sure, you can get the superglue and sellotape and do your best, but you'll always miss the tiny little pieces, and you'll never find them. Your heart will never really be complete again once it has been broken.
Receiving 12 red roses on Valentines day. It just won't happen.
Love being blind. If love was blind, people wouldn't care how tall you were, or how skinny you were. What colour hair you have. And when someone talks about the person they love, the first question asked wouldn't be 'what do they look like?'
If you love something, you have to set it free. Total lie. 1. you don't have to do anything. 2. humans are selfish little buggers. If they love something, they're not about to release if off into the world for someone else to lay their hands on it.
Love conquers all. No, it really doesn't. Because if that were true, love would conquer distance, and third parties, and age. It would conquer death. If love conquered all, ultimately, we would be living in one hugely overpopulated world.
It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Try telling that to a girl who has had her heart broken so many times she's pretty much lost all the pieces to it, and she's lying shattered on the floor because everyone she's ever loved has left her in some respect. Don't think she'd agree with you really.
Bottom line here; by living life by clichés, I've set myself up for a perfect world which cannot and does not exist. Clichés are dangerous business; they allow you to believe in the impossible.
But perhaps that is the greatest thing about them. They give us something to believe in; something to look up to in wonderment. Just because fairytales aren't true, does it stop us recounting the stories to our children? 
Then why on Earth should I ever stop believing in clichés? 
Well, I can tell you, I will not.
-D. xx