Your Door


Those bus journeys to towns and villages as quaint and typically English as the music of Nick Drake. Time stands still in such places. The world stops, and the cities you read about in the papers are as distant and unreal as your dreams. Much of my childhood was spent travelling to and from these idyllic locations and the stillness they contained. The ornaments in my great-grandmother’s house. The decades-old patterned wallpaper. The biscuit tins dating from the 50’s adorned with the faces of beaming weird kids. They speak to me as much as they did when they were right there before my very eyes. That stillness. It soothed my soul when I was young, and it soothes me now. Modern life had no place in my younger years, and it has little appeal for me as an adult. Those that crawl towards the dim lights of modernity- whatever. Give me trees and fields that never change. Give me the mother’s milk of indifference to a world of false ideas and opaque idols as meaningless as those who follow them. Pick me up in your car and take me to a church in the sticks and marry me. Let’s do it without glamour or money. Let’s get lost and leave it all behind while singing the words to River Man while drunk on love and a dozen bottles of warm German beer. Those words, they remind me of waiting for dinner after school at my grandparents’ house while staring up at the sun. They remind me of reading old newspapers while listening to the rain come down outside on Sunday afternoons that never seemed to end. On those days, Monty dog would often be resting by my feet while looking through the patio door so sullenly. With his chin on his paw, I’d tell him I was sorry that he couldn’t go out, and in his own way, I think he knew it wasn’t my fault. That stillness. I’ve seen it in your eyes, and I’ve seen it down so many lonely roads that have called my name over the past few years. These years I’ve dedicated to creating doors. Doors to places that wish to welcome me back, and doors to lands I’ve never seen. And that one door, that one door you’re standing behind which I can never seem to find.

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on

16 replies »

  1. Sometimes, when we’d, lost our ways, it’s important, to remember back to the days when we were still younger, and recall that scent of innocence, and, if we’re lucky, we will, find our ways, back to our selves, the selves, we’d, lost track of as we grew up…

  2. Gah! I love this! Everything about it.
    I can so hear River Man, too.

    (We were married in a small outdoor chapel deep in the woods of Missouri, by a lake. We had been there for a youth camp and the chapel had just been built and its gorgeousness was a complete surprise. Cement pillars with a roof, no walls, or windows or doors..and a stain glassed panel behind the unadorned cement altar, and a cross made from sticks. It was overcast, a little drizzly, just perfect. Had to make a rather quick decision due to my visa and we had about 2 weeks in the area to pull it together. A nearby church had just painted a heap of picnic tables white…we pitched a large marquee on a friend’s farm, also deep in the woods, with a long drive way and a river through it, a deer gave birth in front of us in the driveway the day before…we gathered wild flowers the morning of the wedding to put on the cake, found an old claw foot tub in the farmhouse we put the drinks in all came together. The tiny florist shop in the tiny town did the flowers exactly how I wanted at short notice before they literally shut shop and moved elsewhere. It was rather amazing. Cheap and perfect. Thanks so much for bringing back some wonderful memories!)

      • That’s such a lovely tale! Very romantic, and down to earth. That’s the beauty of it. Those that go over the top with things, for me, and trying to make up for something that isn’t there. If it’s real love than money and everything else is just secondary. And I’m touched you enjoyed the last line. I think that which is just out of reach never lets us sleep. Which is obviously bad, and yet it can keep us going at times, and drive us forwards when otherwise we might stop x

      • Thank you! It was never my dream to have a big wedding…it fascinated me when people said they had had that dream since they were little…I could not relate at all. To actually dream about the kind of wedding you wanted before even meeting someone you wanted to marry…
        Haring “it is the bride’s day after all” always screeched me to a halt. What a bizarre thing to say. My husband was very involved in our planning, and we drove to, and walked into the wedding together. I could not agree more, if it is real love and commitment, then everything is secondary. And why start it all in debt as well?! Maybe people have some good reasons, I just can’t relate.
        That last line…I think you nailed a few things perfectly…it can keep us going, but it can also be an ongoing grief that needs to be acknowledged/accepted on a more conscious level perhaps etc? The first time I had such a dream, it had to do with a person I thought I had forgotten…it caught me so off guard and was so enlightening…

  3. This is amazing. I’m English too and I was immediately transported to my childhood spent with grandparents and then to now, sitting at home alone wishing to raise a very resolute middle finger to the modern world.

    • I’m glad you know what it’s like, that sense of tranquillity and calm. I’ve lived in and around Bedfordshire all my life, so the countryside and that way of life has always appealed to me. And yeah, now I shake my head at the modern world wishing to go back to the warmth of yesterday!

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