Memory lane – My life is my message.

imageTalking to a friend about childhood
How missed it is, she remembers every detail, and specks with such passion, she longs to go back and be care free.
Me though I don’t miss mine.
I miss the happiest time of my life, a year of pure heaven, every second of that year I wore a smile not just on my face but my eyes and heart also, hence why I gained the nickname Twinkle.
This blog though isn’t about that time it’s about me trying to remember one time I was truly happy before that time, childhood memories that bring a tear to my eye, ones of happiness.
As I sit here and try to walk down memory lane, I can’t remember one moment in my childhood that I felt truly happy.
I have memory’s of course I do
I remember my wall paper in my bedroom, the names of my teddies that I played alone in my room having tea parties.
I remember having the biggest fight with my mum and throwing every item in my room against the door and the hiding that followed.
I remember my step dad running up the stairs with a wooden spoon in his hand chasing me.
I remember staring out to sea, wondering where I belonged.
I remember sitting in the same spot growing up, pondering about my life and where I came from. I remember the pain I felt, from the secrets that were kept from me.

Who am I ? Was the question that haunted my childhood.

I remember a holiday to Portugal, and walking around a market, where they had children for sale, I thought maybe I had been one of those children as I just didn’t fit in.
I didn’t look like my mum or my sister and brother, why was I different from them?

I remember my uncle who I adored, he was harsher than my step dad, but I knew he loved me, he would give me a look, as if to say, ” I wish I could take you away”

I remember sailing with him, I had never felt so free as when I was on his boat, drifting in the breeze. Even during the storm that took us all my surprise one night, I was chained to the boat as we motored into shore.
The freedom I felt as the wind caught the sails.
I guess that’s where my love for sailing truly came from.
I don’t know if it was ever the sailing I loved or it was the feeling it gave me.
The freedom, the calm, the air it allowed into my life.

This feeling was my love, love that I had to give, but no one felt worthy of it.
It felt like no one truly loved me enough for me to open up and give it back.

The sea gave my something so powerful I don’t think I will ever be able to put that into words.
Now though I look out to sea and feel only coldness of my mistakes, the pain of running away and the search for myself.
The search that I guess I will have until the day I’m taken from this world and given rights to the next life, that I know is waiting for me, just out of my grip.

It’s like I’m stuck in purgatory or maybe even hell.
I was teased with true happiness I mean the most pure, magical happiness anyone could only wish for. Anything compared to that is living in hell.
A hell I have grown to learn to live with.
It’s only now the happy memories that make me truly smile.
Memory lane now is my sanctuary.