I have a fetish for a man’s forearm. A strong forearm with slightly curly blonde hairs I can twist my fingers in. It always does it for me. Makes me feel safe, loved, held, invincible, fragile. And it belongs to one man. B is my everything. I could not be or do any of the crap I have to if it weren’t for him. Just holding me. Letting me be me. Being kind, being tough, being caring, being blunt. I am a fucked up case of normal and not normal, with moments of calm and moments of utter insanity. I think we all probably are, some of us just hide it better than others. I have the best gift of all. Someone I hide nothing from. Someone who really does know the dark and the light that is me. Someone who seems to see the light. And quite like the dark. I’m feeling especially maudlin today you see, because today is B’s birthday. And its a crap time for us. And I just felt i wanted to scream from the rooftops how much I adore him. And how much I know I am adored. But I know the girls would be mortified. So I wrote it down instead. You are the only reason I can do this. I see in your eyes the belief in me that makes me know I can. I don’t know why or how we found each other or what made us make it work, but I am grateful every day I breathe that I have you. Not only because of our two beautiful daughters but because I honestly know that any part of my world without you in it, would just not be. You make me be. You make us us. We are us. We are the only thing I know to be truly real. Happy birthday my angel. I love you. And those beautiful forearms.

It’s been a tough five days since chemo. I have desperately tried to remove myself from the nausea that follows me whether I stand, sit, lie or sleep. I hate the way I taste and smell, I hate the way everything tastes and smells. My body aches, I have sores in my mouth, my head feels trapped in a cave with moss in my pores. I feel so tired, it hurts sometimes to talk. But I can feel the easing. I am woman. Hear me roar.