.: Entry Eighty-Six :.

My name is Elliot Parker, and I feel like I am shedding myself again. I want to be someone else for a while, I want to escape into the whole of me. I want to enjoy the reality of who I am. I want to be ok with feeling the good and bad of myself. I want the bad to feel like nothing. I want the bad in me to be good, I want the good to be great, I want to lose all the resistance, all the things I used to think hold me back. Because at the end of the day I feel like I am out growing myself again.

I just feel like it’s time to embrace myself again, find a way to love myself again. Its wrong wording to say I am tired of waiting but I am sure there is a better phrase. Probably the best wording would be I am ready for my complete allowing, I am ready to enjoy my life. It’s been a while since I wrote here, it been a long old while and so much has changed and so little all at once.  I suppose it is safe to say, I am ready. I am ready for all the most wanted desires to flow easily and freely into my existence right now. I am ready to manifest a million dreams come true. I am ready to feel abundant. I am ready to feel love; I am ready to feel every wonderful thing I have been avoiding feeling for a while. I am ready to just exalt my spirit for a while, let it be present in the ecstasy it was born from. I am ready to just feel the connection with my higher self, the stronger self.

Adrian and I, we are just as distant and complicated and close to what I want. He might be able to get a job closer to me, by a few miles to say the least. But that’s the thing isn’t it, about love. It isn’t destroyed by distance, probably more so from neglect. But even with our on and off radio silence, its ok, I am still living life.

I’ve been thinking recently. Playing a game with myself “who do I love?” It’s not so much a trick as fixing some old habits. See for the last few years my answers would start with Adrian and eventually end in myself. That is what I have been changing I ask myself the question “who do I love?” That is when I say my answer, but my first answers must be conscious, so I am changing it slowly so the answer begins with myself and then I can list the names, it’s taking time. I suppose it can be hard to learn to love yourself after you neglect the only relationship that is with you between birth and death- the relationship with yourself. Well I am fixing that, I am trying to show myself a little love at every chance. I want to live a happy life.

My name is Elliot Parker and I think it’s funny that it has to be a conscious choice to push for and pursue a happy life. Some people do it naturally, some learn it, others never even know that it is an option to just exist in moments where you just feel like something beyond yourself.

Have you ever just had a knowing like typing with your eyes closed because you know where all your keys are. Have you ever just had a knowing that you can tell a misspelling with your eyes closed, it’s a s strange feeling to be able to do something so naturally and as easy as breathing, something you can do without thinking about it, without each movement being a conscious decision. That is exactly what happiness should be. Something that you don’t have to think about, something that you don’t have to make a conscious decision to be. That idea just feels beautiful. Learning to love yourself can be harder, at least at times it feels like it.

There’s that saying, if I remember rightly it sort of goes along the lines of you have to love yourself before you can love someone else truly. But I think it does disservice because you can love others and hate yourself, it just ends with self-sabotage. But that is not all I am thinking. I am getting to that thought on the tip of my tongue, I can love myself and be ok with putting how I feel first, then I can love others. It is a disservice to learn to love yourself so you can learn to love others how they want. I think that learning to love yourself puts you in a position where their love has less of a hold over you. Like, it isn’t meaning less, but it is less prominent, less the be all and end all. It is a truer freedom to be able to survive without others to love and focus on.

That’s a sort of truth I hadn’t considered. It is easier to love someone else than to love yourself. That is how and why we get caught up in loves outside of ourselves. But I am coming to the conclusion that the internalising of love is for the best, for me at least. I think learning to love the good and bad of me will give me the freedom I am yearning for. I always find myself yearning from freedom. Wanting to shed my life, shed some old version of myself, shed some out dated version of who I thought I was, who others assume me to be.

Part of me thinks, that if I love myself it means that I will be shedding the chains that are twisting around me, if I love myself the importance of others love or fascination with me will be meaningless, I will feel endlessly better than holding myself worth in another’s perception of me. I am good enough. I am worthy.

The Diary of Elliot Parker Part Three is now available for pre-order on amazon! Out on the 11^th November… here is the UK link https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075VSBT3Q

Here is the US link https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075VSBT3Q

.: Entry Eighty-Five :.

My name is Elliot Parker, except not here it’s not. Here I am Ellianor Parkrovia.

As of five minutes ago, I am the Queen, and I am furious.

“You lied” the words tumble out of me, before I pull myself back. The disbelief causes a fog buzzing in my ears, I can’t think, not logically, not as a queen. My anger is evident to even a blind man. I am radiating a fiery heat of anger, the room is hotter, not just me, the air around me shimmers from the anger bubbling like the volcano burning my skin. My blood feels thick; it itches in my veins. I know there is no way I could manage a mask with this rage bursting me at the seams. The focus of my anger, a new found intense hatred I know I can’t escape. Our fates are bound and all I want to do is kill him, my husband of fifteen minutes ago.

The guests around the room are a deadly silence, waiting. I can feel hands on me pulling me away from the lifeless forms of my parents. Their touch on my burning skin feels like ice, cutting through the heat creating a new agony. I spring free of them and launch myself at my husband his lies fill the air and I can feel myself choking.

I wake up in a cold sweat. I look at the sleeping figure next to me. The boat rocking gently. I place my hand over his heart and reach into where his dream should be, but it’s a dreamless sleep for him, until now. I slowly pour the dream into him, so he sees every fraction of a second from my eyes. I push every feeling into him. He begins to wriggle under my hand trying to free himself of the dream. It’s not a safe process. I can see the vein in his neck twitching faster. He is drowning in my grief. I pull myself away slowly and let the dream sit and settle and he begins to wake. I lay still next to him, pretending to be asleep.

I feel him looking at me, watching. I turn over so my face is hidden, his fingers fumble in my hair, pulling strands from my face, laying it out behind me.

I feel the pain of the dream beginning to fade, I remind myself what it was, a dream, nothing more.

The fingers rearranging my hair have stopped, for a moment. I take a deep breath, a relaxed at ease feeling takes over as I release the dreams hold over me completely. The moonlight is swaying from the sea. I feel the soft fingers return to my skin, being so gentle that they could barely be there, I remember the island cave. The closeness, the protection, the lie.

His fingers are replaced by his lips, it’s harder to fight the hurt of the lie. His kisses fall behind my ear, at the back of my jaw, down the side of my neck. I can’t help it, the shiver down my spine made me move, I roll back on to my back and open my eyes. I could feel him near me before my eyes adjusted to the newfound darkness, the moon behind a cloud. His face so close to mine that his breath crossed mine for a brief second before his lips were on mine. Is this what guilt looks like?

I stop the kiss. Before weakness over takes me and I start a new one. Its hungrier than I meant it to be. I pull away a little and he follows after me and pulls me back into a kiss that could have lasted forever. If it wasn’t for that nagging inside of me that kept yelling that I can’t trust him. The dream showed me that. The dream.

I back away completely and turn my head. I can hear the frustration in his sigh. My own frustration is torn; I pull him towards me for another kiss. Get some control of yourself. I am fighting myself when I kiss him and when I don’t. I’m fighting myself more than I fight him and no matter what there is no way I can win. Fighting myself is frustrating. I pull away and this time I stand putting distance between us I walk across the cabin, not far, but far enough that we aren’t touching.

“This is ridiculous.” His voice is breathy and frustrated. He isn’t wrong, but letting myself kiss him feels twisted. I hate him and want him all at once. I respect and despise him all at once and I can’t decide what I feel most consistently. His presence is a destructive storm around me, seductive and alluring but ready to decimate whatever I feel. I can’t decide how I feel about him or how I am meant to feel about him. One minute I want him more than anything, the next I want him out of my life for good. More often than not, I want him, the best of him. I want the man I believed, believe in. I want to be near him, to feel that strange buzzing energy in my body that flows from head to toe. The way his lips press on mine, the way his hungry kisses make me forget whatever was on my mind. The way his touch sets my skin on fire at every tiny point of contact. The way I feel safe and on edge all at once when we are alone.

The fog is lifting in the room, for me at least. I sit on the edge of the bed; his fingers graze the small of my back reaching out for me. I sit back and finally lay down next to him. My back to him, I reach behind me and take his hand in mine before getting comfortable again. “The one thing, I hate the most about you, you make me love you.” My voice drowsy as sleep pulls me back under.

The Diary of Elliot Parker Part Three is now available for pre-order on amazon! Out on the 11^th November… here is the UK link https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075VSBT3Q

Here is the US link https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075VSBT3Q

.: Entry Eighty-Four :.

My name is Elliot Parker. For about two, maybe three weeks after I decided what I wanted there was a bit of radio silence. I got to sit in that knowing of what I wanted, and there were a few tests from the universe. Temptations perhaps is too strong a word, but appealing options maybe a better word. But even with distractions and temptations, what I want hasn’t changed. But how I want it has changed. Before it was wanting something and believing it will happen. Now I am wanting it because I know it will happen. I keep trying to understand this deliberate creation, I keep trying to understand life and the world and my physical body.

It sounds weird doesn’t it, wanting something for the reason that you know it will happen (because you want it). But there are different ways we want things, different reasons. Some because we believe we can’t have them, when we believe that we can’t have it we amplify its absence. Sometimes we want something because we believe it will make us happy, which is often the case, but when we get it we wonder why we aren’t happy and we start wanting something else.

My wanting and knowing statement when I thought about what I wanted was specific. I want a relationship, home, family, I want to build something real. I want that safe happy home. I guess I’d not be against getting married etc with him. Though I think I would need to know that he had given it some serious thought. I suppose I’d possibly be concerned of it being a spur of the moment thing, that he hadn’t realised what he asked, or wasn’t ready for the commitment. I know that is stupid, because he is not the type of person to do things without putting enough thought into it, that’s more likely me. He will only say or do something unless he wants to, something I do often forget. So yeah, I love him, I want a relationship with him, I want to build a family with him, however it looks. I want that future with him, without any uncertainty. He is the one person on this planet I would say yes to, even if there were some details to be worked out later, like getting on the same page about the future of the relationship, if there was anything we would be needing to compromise on. I like knowing what I want. I like knowing that my certainty in what I want means I have no wobble. I like not having any wobble on what I want, I like knowing what I want. I like knowing that if I know what I want I am essentially in the best aligning energy with what I want than I have ever been. I like knowing the clarity of my desire for a committed relationship with Adrian, I like that certainty. I like being sure, being sure feels great.

It was specific and it was certain and it was knowing and most importantly I know it will make me makes me endlessly happy because I get to enjoy where I am and where I am going.

So yes there were two to three weeks of barely any talking until we got chatting again, as regular patterns dictate. Adrian and I gravitate towards each other. He has saved my ass in those weeks when we have talked, he was my knight in shining armour. Now we are chatting again, properly. I love the way it feels when we talk, like it is effortless. I suppose to return the balance of his knight in shining armour-ness, (I’m not used to being rescued) I was happy to agree to help Adrian when he asked for a favour. He wants helps with some coursework, like what could be called proof reading. I want to do it, not because I love science, but because I want to help him, not because he can’t do it himself, but because I like being a part of his life. It’s like being included. I suppose I like feeling needed. I like being there for him. Even if I get frustrated sometimes.

So yeah, I am going to enjoy doing something different for a short while, a bit of science.

I am enjoying the small steps and natural conversations I am having while what I want is manifesting perfectly. The universe is conspiring with me, the deliberate creator. I love it. I do feel like things are falling into place so perfectly, like I am becoming who I want to be. I am allowing myself to be confident, enchanting and worthy. I am allowing who I am and how I want to define myself to expand. It’s fun.

I like that life right now feels like it is just at my fingertips. All the good feeling thoughts are coming to me easily. What I desire is coming easily and swiftly and its drawn by teeny tiny choices. I get to choose whether or not I want to enjoy things and I get to decide, yes this is what I want, I get to choose to be happy every second of the day and every second of the day it feels like a rapturous joyousness that calls you to happiness. In moments, that are dull and boring and I just want them to be over I take a moment to realise what I am thinking and I choose my mood. I get to choose how I feel and as soon as I realise I am not feeling happy I decide that I want to feel happy. Once that decision is made I start looking for the thoughts that will make me feel happy. I look for those thoughts and they come sometimes harder sometimes easier than I expect. But they come and they grow and soon I am in that happy place again. I am a perpetual happiness magnet. Did I mention that Adrian makes me happy? Because I am not sure how accurate that is, because I make me happy and he is something I put my attention on and feel good about. So in a way, just the thought of him, the mention of his name or the thought of those beautiful eyes, they can make me feel good from just the observation of their existence. I like being happy, being happy is good and important.

The Diary of Elliot Parker Part Three is now available for pre-order on amazon! Out on the 11^th November… here is the UK link https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075VSBT3Q

Here is the US link https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075VSBT3Q

.: Entry Eighty Three :.

My name is Elliot Parker, according to what is deemed to be reality. But here, I am someone else, here I am the Princess Ellianor Parkrovia. I ran away from an arranged marriage, a tactical alliance on behalf of my parents.

I ran away and jumped on a ship, with the Captain’s consent I became the stowaway girl. His power challenged mine, but he helped me to run away. Our ship was under chase, so we abandoned it and landed on an island. The Captain maintained his power, no matter my resistance. We were under chase and discovered tunnels in a cave. We used the tunnels, and a little magic to escape the tunnels and take a ship. The ship left and we took to the sea again. That’s where the truth was discovered. The Captain, is not exactly a captain, but he is the Prince that my parents had arranged for me to marry. He kept me on the ship even when we reached the docks of my home. Prince Adrian Ferislekraig is a dick. Sometimes I hate him, sometimes resisting him seems futile. When you are drawn to someone like that, I don’t think the freedom of choice really exists.

If I want to make it to land I have to co-operate. If I want to escape, I have to be clever. If I want to run, I need to run far and fast. I know that this is what I want to do. But what I want to do, what I must do, is very different. What I must do is for everyone else, my parents and my people.

“Sit” I command. Glaring at the man who made me believe he was nothing more than the Captain of the ship, at least as the Captain I didn’t hold him in contempt. Part of me, a huge part of me wishes he was nothing more than the Captain and that the feelings I had developed for him wouldn’t have caused this conflict. He sits down and looks at me.

“This hostility won’t work well in our marriage.” He smiles, I hate the charming energy he exudes. The way his smile makes his cheeks dimple winds me up now. Everything he does winds me up now. Finally, he sits on the edge of the bed.

“This won’t work.” I say.

“What won’t?” He pulls at the threats on the top sheet.

“Telling me what to do, telling me who I should be.”

“I think it will.” Refusing to take me seriously is getting on my last nerve right now. “At what point did you win any of your power challenges?” I glare at him. “You have too much to lose little Princess. You care too much and I care too little.”

“You care. You want an easy marriage.”

“Correction. I want you. Your compliance and co-operation in the marriage is a bonus.” He smiles, but this time, he reaches out his hand and takes me by my wrist. He tugs, and pulls me forward so that I collide with him with the rocking of the ship. I bang my shins on the edge of the bed. I pull away and move to sit on the bed so I can rub my shins, he apologises and tries to rub where I am. I had never noticed before that hurting your shins radiates down the bone from knee to ankle. I swore out loud. He looks at me, brown eyes soft. He isn’t wearing a mask, not with me anyway. I could have sworn, for a moment, with all the pretence of power being irrelevant, I saw something close to fear flash over his features.

“Correction, you don’t actually want to hurt me, do you?” I watch his features change while he tries to respond. Maybe if he doesn’t want to hurt me he won’t maybe he would prevent it. Maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to make an enemy of me.

Instead of answering me he stops rubbing my shins and looks me in the eyes. We are locked in this gaze and I just wish I knew what he was thinking, really deep down. I feel like I should know, that I could know, but I am uncertain. Is that uncertainty stemming from him, or from me? He tucks a lock of hair that had fallen away, his fingers brush my ear, falling softly down the side of my neck. The brush of his fingers sends sparks throughout my body. I feel warmer, reminiscent. I can’t stop the twitch of a smile that grows from the corners of my mouth, they are acting of their own accord. Sometimes just sometimes, I see this softer, gentler side of him. When he isn’t focused on what he wants in a practical, logical way, there is this softness and warmth about him. When he behaves in a way that has no ulterior motive. When he behaves in a soft and caring way, when he is wholey present in a moment, I can see how I fell for him. I can see why, and for a moment I don’t feel angry with myself for feeling responsive to my addiction to him, to his proximity and his care. To feeling that quiet peace from my core that still hums with anticipation and wanting. Feeling wholey his for that time when I can see this gentle side without a selfish motive. To see that genuine, generosity with how he feels. I know he cares in that moment. I know he cares. But in mere seconds his demeanour will change. He will return to his logic and reason and mission and this moment will fade to a memory.

That is how I know, by some magic I have fallen in love with memories and a memory of glimpses of all that I wanted being just within reach. I turn away from him. I hear him sigh and stand up. He walks from the room and I am alone, again.

The Diary of Elliot Parker Part Three is now available for pre-order on amazon! Out on the 11^th November… here is the UK link https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B075VSBT3Q

Here is the US link https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075VSBT3Q