Lost and found and life begun

in Freewriters2 years ago (edited)

The feeling washed over her like spring rain; refreshing, sweet and life-giving. It took what was, fed and nurtured it and helped it develop into what is.

She breathed more deeply, saw colours more vividly, saw herself more clearly than she had for many years. She felt light, carefree and happy and the feeling of restlessness, of being a stranger within her own body, had faded to nothing but last seasons leaves, fallen, forgotten; ;detritus littering the ground.

She felt in love with life, herself, and she felt loved.

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Lost

There wasn't a single moment in which she realised she was lost.

It was a combination of moments, events, harsh words and even harsher actions that joined at the edges into one long moment that lasted years. She'd detached emotionally to cope, present in body but not in heart, mind and soul. It worked, but the more she was outside herself, the harder it was to get back in; she had lost herself.

Life was darkness, a void. It was fear, pain and suffering, contempt and resentment, mostly for herself for not having the courage to change it sooner. She moved in shades of grey. The greatest effort went to being nondescript, dressing to blend in, bring no attention. She was there but not there; a survival technique that had gotten her through her troubled years; a habit she was loath to release.

Found

She'd seen him so many times watching her now and then from the other end of the subway car, though he did a good job at hiding it.

It had annoyed her at first; how dare he see her after all her efforts to fade into the background?! He persisted though, a glance here and there. He must be one of those weird people one meets on the subway, she'd thought. But he never followed her, never stared just glanced now and then, and when he did, she felt naked, exposed and like the only person in the train but for the man himself. Go away weirdo.

It was months later when she bumped into him, quite literally.

Walking in a busy subway station with one's head down comes with it's hazards and on this particular day she found herself on the ground, handbag beside her, contents spilled haphazardly. People hurried by, in New York no one really cared about anyone else. But someone kneeled to her side, shielded her from the oncoming stampede of people around her. He was apologising profusely in a voice that sounded like mountains moving against one another, but smooth and very sexy mountains; it was deep, resonant and clear and, whilst he didn't speak loudly his voice, carried, reached within her and found purchase. It was a lovely voice.

She'd looked up then and saw it was the weirdo from the train.

Life begun

He'd helped her up with strong but gentle hands, gathered her things and apologised for his clumsiness several times.

She'd stood looking up into his face, so kind and gentle, but lined as if he'd known hard work outdoors, had a difficult life his eyes spoke conveyed that he'd been broken but had repaired the damage; they were wise. For the first time in years she didn't want to be transparent, to blend in or fade into the background. She wanted him to see her. All of her.

A week later she met him for coffee at a little French bakery on Centre Street called Maman in SoHo. His mountain moving on mountain sexy voice was more like rolling thunder in the distance as a storm receded that day, but it was equally enjoyable. She could listen to it all day. And night.

Another week later she'd met him a further three times.

A year later, she met him every morning when he kissed her on the forehead and said, it's time to wake beautiful girl, before getting out of bed to put the coffee on. She pretended to be asleep waiting just for that moment, and then sneak a peak over the blankets at his naked body as he walked into the kitchen.

He'd come back with coffee, set it down on the side table and pull the curtains open flooding the room with light, pull on some boxers and serve her coffee. Every morning.

She'd not thought life could be so good. It was beautiful. He was.

He had given her confidence, room to rediscover herself, and had been there throughout, patiently supporting, encouraging and holding her when she cried. He listened though the words, hurt him. She'd tell him that she wasn't really there when it happened, not in mind anyway, and that helped, but she knew he was hurt by it and wanted nothing more than to take hers away; she told him she did though, and she meant it.

She felt life begin to infuse her; it washed over her and blossomed from the inside out. He touched her tenderly, her body, mind and soul, and she returned it; She listened to his past as he listened to hers, it was important for them to begin from a point of understanding. More importantly though, they lived, together. They created their masterpiece, individuals but together, and it was beautiful.

Sometimes she'd watch him from a distance and remember the way he'd done the same to her on the subway. She knew why he'd done it now, that he wasn't a weirdo on the train, just a man that saw a woman he felt drawn to. She looked at him that way too, and he'd catch her out. She was unapologetic though, didn't hide it. She'd put on her cheeky face, raise one eyebrow as if to challenge him to object. He never did.

Sometimes she'd think of her story of being lost then found.

The dark past seemed distant, enshrouded in fog. It hardly felt real to her. Then there was him and the moment she'd found herself. Because of him? Certainly because of who she wanted to be around him and who he helped her be, yes. And then there was the present; a journey still unfolding, one she got to share with this beautiful human.

She knew seasons would turn, that they would find rocky paths, but she was different now, and felt she would be better able to move forward. She no longer wanted to detach from life but melt into it, to take his hand and move through it together. She knew that when she met him her life began.

Becca 💗

If there is an image in this post I took it myself or someone took it of me, for me.

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Le sigh.

You could move mountains with your words alone.

Thank you for saying so dswigle, this is a huge compliment coming from you. I'm humbled and grateful.

Becca 🌷

❤️ Pfft. I'm the one who is impressed.

Thank you so much. 😊

I do so love your positive, uplifting stories. Deep within all of us I think we're all looking for much of the same, rocky paths and all.

Thank you wwwiebe, I love getting your comments so we're even.

If we peel back the layers of any person on this planet we would find, basically, the same thing, physically and emotionally I suppose it could be said. Are we all looking for quality of life, happiness, contentment, thrill, pleasure, engagement...I could go on and on. The answer is yes I think, each in our own ways. The people in this story are just two more people doing the same, and both found it.

Shadows fall across our lives, darkness creeps in, it's unavoidable. But there's light also and it's about both I write here and both I've experienced in my life, which makes it easier to write about, and more difficult.

Enough said I guess. Thank you once more for coming by, you make me feel welcome, a valid member of the community, when you stop in and comment. I appreciate it.

Becca 🌷

I like to leave comments on work that I enjoy, to let people know it's worth more than just a 'like,' so to speak. It's the best way to get to learn about people and know them, particularly the fun ones.

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