Because I like pretty things...

Sorry I've been away for a little while, beautiful people.

I have no real excuse, I'm afraid.
I have been house-sitting for the past couple of weeks. One week to go. It has been quite a journey of overcoming fears, both of loneliness and chickens.

But maybe that's a story for another time...

Back to the title of this blog.

I always thought that Pinterest was a little bit of a fad. Others joined, and I observed a little, but I never really got it.

Then a lady in the office brought it up the other day and asked if I had it. She was shocked when I said 'No' and then went on a 5-minute rave about how much I would 'love' it and how it would be 'just your kind of thing'.

So with curiosity oozing up to my earlobes, I tentatively took another look... I found the site, which wasn't hard, and made myself a little account.

And then I fell in love.

So here it is. My little collection of pretty things...

imevelynfrances

Why don't you take a little look?

A Letter to my Readers - In which I try not to sound like a creep...

Dear Readers,

Firstly, I love you. Each and every one of you. I know there really aren't many of you, probably not more than a handful, or maybe just one or two, but I know you're there.

But next, I apologise to you. I'm not really sure what you must think of me. You get to see the things that I don't share with many people. The things I mull over for a while and suddenly the words come together and it finally feels complete enough to put out to the rest of the world because it looks ordered and it makes sense and it feels neat. But also the really terrible things where I write in a flurry and the tears stream and my fingers quiver and everything just falls off-centre as fears and aches and desires and joys and passions and heartbreaks become sentences, however disjointed, and the keyboard tremours and you dare to read the child of this mania.
So the 'sorry' is for the fact that you may now need therapy. I'm ok with what goes on in my head because it's been happening for a few years now. But I can imagine it must be pretty daunting for a newbie.

You didn't used to appear as people to me. You were just simple stats on a page. I know what country you view from and what type of computer you have. And then you're just a blank. An empty shell of a reader. I used to find this frustrating. I wanted to see you and know you. I got so caught up in wanting you to respond, that I stopped writing for a while.

But now things are different. Now you enchant me. I can see you with your cup of tea. A little sip between a sentence here and a paragraph there. You find me humorous maybe, a little too over the top, but entertaining to read. You've decided to read out of curiosity. And you find me curious. I'm not quite how you expected me to be. But you keep reading. Maybe you even think I actually say something of value. That surprises me, but if that's what you're getting from here then I'm thrilled.

Maybe I know who you are in real life. Maybe I really don't. But I like you.

I like you for who you can be in my mind. You can be the friend that's just catching up on missed times. You can be the inquisitive Facebook friend that found this little place of mine from a past link. You can be the one I aimed a few of my posts to. You can be the man that I hope reads this, because there's so much I wish he knew. You can be the stranger that stumbled across here and may never return.

But really I don't care who you are. I don't care if you're male or female. 1 or 100. Black or White. English or American. French or Italian. A Mac user or a PC user. A Christian or an Atheist. A Muslim or a Hindu. A morning person or a night owl. A friend or a stranger.

I just care that you're here.

So thank you.
Eve

The Curse of Honesty...

This post also has several alternative titles...

1. The thing about not having boundaries
2. Praying for secrecy
3. Open Heart, Open Mouth, Open Wounds
4. Why I can't keep my gob shut.

As you may be able to tell, there's rather a lot going on in my head right now.

I'm a brutally honest person. Brutally BRUTALLY honest. Every time I have a conversation with someone the metaphorical landscape of our dialogue just looks like absolute carnage. I'm pretty sure my normal conversation actually scares people. For most people, 'How are you?' has never been met with quite so much heart-pouring explicitness before. But this is only one way.

This probably sounds really self-obsessed, but I have some weird kind of mental addiction with telling everyone everything about my life.

There you go. I said it. It is an addiction.

I don't know what I'm hooked on in particular though... Maybe it's the risk? The adrenaline rush as you suddenly admit some dreadful secret to someone that has become a trusted friend. Or the drama? When you have so much on your mind and you bump into someone you vaguely know and suddenly completely decimate them with a truckload of over-sharing. Or simply the need to find that one person I can share everything with? But I have found Him. And I don't.

That little filter that most people have between brain and mouth is just completely missing with me. If I trust people then I'll just go right out and tell them everything. You may be reading this and thinking 'What on earth is so bad about honesty? Surely having no boundaries is a good way to make and sustain good, healthy friendships?'

I'll tell you what's so bad about not having any boundaries...

You can never keep track of who knows what. And I sit here now and just think WHY did I tell that person about that. Even though they may not mean to, it's only really a matter of time before one of the many people I have told accidentally brings it up at the wrong time or hints too much. Then suddenly my cover is blown. The game is over. The person finds out. And my world implodes.

One slight slip of the tongue could so easily cause a whole plethora of other issues for me.

Honesty hurts. And the worst part? I only have myself to blame.
Yes, I am feeling rather upset with myself right now.

My Safe Place...

There's a pile of half-read books on the desk.

There's a dusty clock...

...next to the abandoned bed.

Light reflects in the glass...

...from the shade that hangs above.

There's clean laundry hanging in rows.

Forgotten bunting lays scattered on the rug.

Creativity lays scrambled up in threads.

And in the middle of it all there sits a little girl.

Safe and sound amongst the chaos.

He has a plan. But...

So I'm very happy for people in relationships. Those true-love, God-seeking, made-for-each-other kind of relationships are just amazing. However I do feel less thrilled for these couples, when I myself am not in one. As selfish as that sounds, that is the honest truth.

I'm also very happy with the idea and the truth that God has a plan for my life. This is what gives me hope day to day that I'm not going it alone and that I have an exciting future ahead.

What I am not feeling quite so happy about, is the timing of things. Right now, I just want to be in one of those amazing relationships. And yes, it's probably best to wait, because it's better to be single and wait for the right guy, than to constantly waste time with the wrong guys.

But today I just don't feel that at heart. I'm sad that I haven't found a guy that I can be 100% myself with. I'm sad that all the amazing guys I meet just aren't right for one reason or another... wrong age, already in a relationship, already married, not a Christian, geographically not suitable etc etc... And I know that this is God's way of saying that I need to wait for the right guy and that I just haven't met him yet (cue Michael Buble...).

Without sounding like a complete scrooge, the happiness of other people's relationships does just get wearing. Yes, it's fantastic news that one of my school friends has just got engaged. But why can't I be too?!

I know God has a perfect plan for my life, tailored to and for me. But today this just doesn't feel fair.