ABOUT LOVE LIFE

Love life is an essential aspect of one’s existence that brings joy, happiness, and a sense of fulfillment to an individual. Love is a complex emotion that can take many forms, such as romantic love…

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The Blackbird

Lena tries to survive the day and make it to her friend’s birthday dinner

The room is in that curious half-light when I wake, reflections from the roof of the car outside are bouncing up, sun lighting the ceiling rather than the floor. Through the window, I can smell the neighbour’s freshly cut lawn and hear a blackbird singing away merrily to itself in the sycamore tree opposite.

‘Are you awake, sweetie?’ Dan creeps in with a cup of coffee and a plate of toast. ‘I thought you deserved breakfast in bed.’

‘Aww, thank you!’ Reaching for it, I give him a big kiss. ‘You’re such a darling!’ I lean back on the pillows as he slides into bed next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders.

I love him so much when he’s in this mood. He looks soft and kind, his blue eyes smiling. ‘So, what shall we do today?’ I ask.

‘I thought we’d go to the beach. It looks like it’s going to be a scorcher. What do you think? We could spend the day paddling, have chips and ice cream, or wander down the pier and play on the arcades?’

‘I need to be back for 6 though, you haven’t forgotten, have you?’ I can already feel the anxiety playing at my stomach, scratchy around the edges. It’s Izzie’s birthday, we have dinner planned. All of us together again for the first time since Christmas.

‘No, of course not,’ his mouth sets in a petulant line which works its way into my muscles, tensing them up so my shoulders are next to my ears again. I can’t remember the last time they didn’t ache. ‘You won’t let me forget, will you?’

‘Sorry,’ I look down at the butter congealing on my toast. ‘Still, it’ll be nice for you to have an evening to yourself. What’re you up to? Are you meeting friends?’

‘Just change the subject, OK? Why do you have to bang on about everything so much?’

‘Sorry.’

I eat my toast in silence; it feels like cardboard in my mouth and I have trouble swallowing. ‘That was delicious.’ I say, smiling at him, but I know that it’s not convincing. It’s tight and hard and doesn’t move much of the rest of my face. My worry lines don’t smooth out anymore.

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