Autumn, You, I, he, she, it, us.

"Wicked wind whips up the hill
Hand full of hopeful words...
said something I did not mean to say-
it all came out the wrong way...

Rain your kisses down upon me
Rain your kisses down in storms...

I'm going out of my mind..."

Nick Cave- 'Love Letter'


Love Letter is one of my most beloved songs.
Hairs on my arms always salute...I end up sighing by the end.

I was thinking this morning about how important it was for me, a year ago, almost to the day, to become small.
I went as far as I could, melted away the most of the trouble.

I was thinking about how pleased it made me to see my hip bones saying hello.

I stood in front of the mirror smoothing down my skirt, nothing to pinch, just a snag of skin. I felt so happy. I had achieved something I felt I must have always wanted.

Had I always wanted this?

I remember teenage days, full and curved, hugged into stone washed denim, not really caring.

I believed men always went for the skinnier girls, even though some still went for me. Maybe I still do believe that. I really wish I did not. It's at times like these I feel infantile and 'silly', and at times such as these when I just want a hug from a beautiful heart, or someone to tell me to get a grip, or make me a tea or smack my bottom.

I am coming to terms with my body. It's taking time, but I am getting there.

A year later I am rounded and fuller in the hips. I swell a little in my jeans, my face is softer, and I feel strong.

Stronger.

Today I am in a wet day way.

Donning socks and knowing Autumn is so near. Everything becomes fragile or plump. I must admit, I do look forward, now, to scarves and kicking leaves and damp wood smells, dogs and walks,

then later on, Winter baths,
covers over the both of us,

You. My imaginary Lover and I.

I continually find myself, at this time of year, getting the Romance Blues.

Back to school, crushes in the classroom,
glances, disco dances, me, you, in the toilets. No, I don't smoke, but I'll sit on your lap and you can stroke my bra.

Now it's all turned into late nights in coffee houses, (do we even have one here?), enormous cliches, you liking the cake I baked for you...
Dancing in the frosting of the park, midnight bell, and we end up lying on our backs, cold wet dark grass
watching for shooting stars
and talking about our first pets, Grandparents and home grown vegetables.

How is it, that I can feel him now?

I thought I had given up on being a hopeful Romantic (capital R)...I must have left it behind with Spring,
and the entrance of Autumn is bringing it all
back up
close.

Breath