Cannons and beaches

The noise in my head was deafening….


  “Subconsciously my brain raced back through time to find a comparable sound, after all such noises are frightening and there is safety in familiarity; the only reference point to be found came from a time twenty-five years past when as a small child I had wrestled free from my Fathers hand as we watched a Spanish street festival on the Costa Blanca.  So desperate was I to get close to the front of the action that my childhood eyes saw what young eyes do, the positive and the exciting, which, in this case was defined by a large empty area in clear view of the spectacle, giving me a front row seat to witness re-enactment of the Moors invading Calpe Beach as they had thousands of years before. Then came the Bang of the cannons to either side of me, the noise was so loud, so sudden and so physical that I felt myself falling, my hands came up in a futile attempt to block the sound that had already happened, my senses reeled from the shock and my head span, in the seconds that followed my Father had already caught up with me and picked me up within what must have been only the smallest faction of a second before my legs gave way. “

I was of course duly told off, although in a softer voice than my parents would normally have chosen to use for the occasion and strangely, I don’t think I have ever thought about the day again since then which was contrary to the paragraph above longer ago than the twenty-five years stated which sadly just reminds me I am getting older than I would like but this fleeting trip down memory lane is just a split second of my sub conscious mind searching for reassurance that I have handled a similar situation but alas the only reference point proved to be a poor match.

When love breaks, and it can, when something that you have believed with the naivety of a child as indestructible as love simply shatters, the breaking, snapping, tearing sound that it makes when finally giving up to the overwhelming forces working against it is as sudden and as loud as anything imaginable

To wake one day and realise that you are no longer in love with someone is in fact more heartbreaking than the reasons that led you to such a sad conclusion. I have spent a year and a half trying to love my wife after her affair, whilst I do love her I realise I am no longer “in love” with her it is a lonely realisation and as an adult we don’t have the luxury of being scooped up by a parent and warned softly and sternly not to do something again, as an adult we handle these things alone, as a parent we hope we remember to teach well

Right now, somewhere in the world an inquisitive young child is wriggling free from a hand which they should be holding tight because excitement wins over safety and as yet lessons have not been learned but that is the joy of childhood discovery and should be treasured. Sadly there will also be far better informed adults who simply refuse to heed the warnings that life offers about letting go of hands they shouldn’t have until it is too late, eventually when you reach out there is no hand to take.

Stay well,

regards “I”


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