Lose Yourself

Tonight when I got home my girl had made me dinner.
I save up so many of the feelings I have for her just for us.
But it’s no secret how much I adore her.
She knows it.
She is something soooo special.
She turns 18 soon.  where did that time go?
And yet she is an 17 year old that pushes against what she is supposed to do, in favour of what she wants to do.
I love her own mind.
The magical girl who has brought so much joy to me in ways that are kept so preciously in my heart and are rarely shared with others. They are the secrets we share.
That magic belongs to us but tonight I felt like I wanted to share a tiny snippet.
The girl who danced from the moment she came into this world.
In my arms as we twirled round the room to your song from moulin rouge. Then throwing her arm to Eminem’s 8 mile when she was 1 year old. Like sone baby rapper. Made me laugh so much. Omg she loved that song. Her face lit up. Not sure why she loved it so much. She just did.
Writing back and leaving presents for the family of fairies who lived in her dolls house and left her letters telling her of their adventures.
Those letter she left for them, now hidden in a place of wonder containing those lovingly wrapped gifts for their birthdays and asking how they are and would they come to visit her one night. Only to find letters from them under her pillow or a chocolate coin in her slipper.
She believed. With everything she was she believed. How happy that made me.
Talking to the squirrels who she understood were the messengers to Father Christmas.
Making shows to entertain us every night. Dancing, acting, singing. It was all she ever did.
The quiet and shy girl who got up at the holiday camp and sang where is love from Oliver and looked embarrassed as everyone cheered.
A beautiful purity to her voice that was like a tiny angel. She has never ceased to amaze me in what she can do.
Playing piano for her great grandad at Christmas to make it special.
Her first boyfriend who had been her friend since the beginning of school. She looked like a Parisian madamoiselle
against his Nike tracksuit as they jumped on the tube to London for the dizzy heights of a greasy spoon. 2 teas please. English breakfast? No thanks, just the teas please. My all time favourite line of life. Sweet kids.
Singing in Camden with those confident types while she sat quietly and then coming alive as though she owned that stage. I could keep going but I’m laughing still at Eminem.
She said she wishes she could stay young forever. If you wish it, it will be, I say.
I found myself watching Finding Neverland tonight when she disappeared in her room for stomach crunches and chats with her mates. I’ve seen that film before. It makes me cry.
Such a beautiful and sad story of love that goes beyond the confines of this world.
Neverland. The world of pirates and fairies and mermaids and magic.
To stop believing is to forget who you are.
When I talk of the magic of stepping stones the last few days have been proof of that. Something is telling me, reminding me of what they look like. Great Ormond street. The owner of the rights to that most wonderful story and home to that friend who helped me and then I did my good karma favour for.
I feel like I am on a journey to somewhere and I’m not quite sure where but I can feel that magic surrounding me, protecting me and showing me something I need to see. What do I need to see? I don’t know.. but while others are caught up in the mess of those trying to govern us I am caught in the imagination of what life can be when you truly believe.
Hiding?

Or remembering how to fly?

 

 

 

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