His Baby is Gone

Her dark wet eyes stared blankly across her parents neat wooden dinning table, her sickly father stood behind her and powerfully hugged her head. Every muscle in her face was tight with rage, her top lip curled and quivered, pulled by an invisible string.

To him, this 37 year old women was still his baby. She felt a flicker of a comforting distant emotional memory in his arms but he could no longer heal her. For 35 years she had filled her Father with pride and love and then suddenly she left her husband and became a drug addict. She is now possessed, her every action motivated by the need to satisfy her unsatisfiable drug habit.

Her ex-husband cried as he imagined himself hugging his 7 year old daughter. The hugs that for the time being at least could always comfort her, a hug that eventually quells the sobs, a hug that turns the sobbing into a teary smile. Not for her Father though. He has lost his baby.

She ate the wonderful curry that her mother had cooked. A recipe passed down through the generations of a poor but happy family village life in Bangladesh. As she ate she hissed abuse at her mother and father and ex-husband. She was oblivious to her children crying on the lounge room floor.

Her father a poor pensioner, emotionally and physically frail and close to death gave her what money he could. Emotional pressure inside him overflowed as blood oozed from his stomach bag staining is white, old worn t-shirt. She hissed abuse at him for being so stingy.

Her ex-husband also gave her money but he asked for a receipt. She hissed abuse at his coldness. Her mother offered her food to take. She hissed abuse at her for not offering money.

Her head nodded uncontrollably with anger, the finger of her lifted arm pointed as she hissed abuse at her mother, father and ex-husband for looking at her with judgemental eyes and talking to her in soft, calm condescending voices. "How dare you judge me like I am just a junkie."

She wanted the gold that her mother kept in her safe for her. Gold passed down to her from generations from that same poor village. Priceless sentimental heirlooms that were acquired at huge cost, long ago through years and years of her ancestors hard work. Enough to buy her drugs for a week. Her mother did not give her the gold.

She yelled at her ex-husband. Can you give me 5 fucking minutes alone with my kids!! He said sure and opened a door for the children to go with her alone into the formal lounge. She hissed again. "You see what I have to do!!! Instead of spending quality time with my kids I have to be fucking arguing with you. See what you fucking do!!! You fucking cunt!!!!"

Her ex-husband stood at the door trying not to look too calm and condescending but yet also submissive and not say anything that might enrage her. An impossibility.

Her 6 year old boy and 7 year girl attempted to comfort their sobbing and crying mother. An honourable yet impossible task. She cried into their arms. You two are the only reason I live. Without you I would kill myself.

What is love?

The eternal question. I have felt many types of love. I have felt a recent romantic love. A love without commitment or risk. Now I am heading towards love with committment and it scares me. I will be putting myself at risk. But I am driving the direction. Why am I heading for this when it is so scary? Does it need to be scary? Yes otherwise you are not really living. Too put my heart in the hands of another. I said I will not do this. I can give love without giving my heart? To give my heart would make me vunerable.

Together

I just finished watching a Chinese movie called "Together". I had no idea what it was about when I started watching it. I just turned on the TV and it started and it caught my attention because it was based in China and I was wondering if it was from Shanghai which is where my Father grew up.

It was about a boy and his dedicated Father (who turns out not to be his natural Father) and the love between them and their honesty and goodness in a not always honest and good world. At the end of the movie I couldn't help but cry. The movie was so moving.

I now wonder why I cried. Do I relate to the boy or the Father or both? Or are the boy and the Father objects/symbols/tools to express the thing that really moved me which is love. Is love a chemical reaction in the brain? a movement of electrons causing an emotion? Or is it something that is like a spirit that moves in us and around us and connects with other spirits in and around others?

This spirit of love controls us in an unconscious way making us do things we do not understand, things that are illogical like crying over a movie. Doing things that dedicate us to our children and family and if we find the right person our lover.

We travel around the world for love. We work for love. We do everything for love. Love is the most powerful force in this world. We can touch it and see it and feel it in our interactions with our loved ones.

I suppose I could see love and feel love in the movie and that's why I cried.

Long Distance Relationship

How can it work? She literally lives 10000miles away. I must stay here to look after my kids. Could I leave my kids for 2 weeks? Would that be abandoning them? 2 weeks of fun with her but what would the impact be on my children? But maybe she will become my wife. She seems perfect.

The reason I can not go is because my children may not be safe with my ex-wife even though my mum will look after them for half the time. My ex-wife is crazy. I have separated from her but she is still controlling my life. I am letting her control my life. It must stop. I need to gain control over my life. She needs to get off the drugs or I want the kids full time. Then i can have control over their safety and then control over my life. If she is off the drugs then hopefully she will be able to act responsibly enough to take proper care of them when she has care of them.

Look at this. This blog and most of my blogs are centred around my ex-wife and the negative impact I continue to let her have on my life.