share my day with me

just one day in my life, written for contest on another writing site

 

I’m 53 my day is just a waking, the alarm hasn’t gone off yet, I squeeze my wrist watch, and it lights up which reads 3.46 am. It has only been 5 ½ since I went to bed, only 5 ½ since I last spoke to my treacle (that being the nick name I have given her) on skpe (live web cam). Yet she is the 1^st thing on my mind and the last thing before I close my eyes. Due to the time difference it is her 10pm, yet this technology today allows us to talk as if we were face to face.

It is still early the birds are now singing, I look around the pink bedroom my eyes drawn to the window. I can see a plane high in the sky, as we do not live far from the airport; a plane is not an uncommon sight. How I wish I was on that plane, flying so fast. I long to hold her in my arms, and kiss her so sweet, but alas she is just 17 ½. We met here through story write, she email me and I emailed her, we got talking on MSM, one thing lead to another, and now we talk on cam.

04.53 I turn the alarm off and climb out of bed, the sleep still in my eyes, as I walk to the door rubbing them. Hitting the button on the computer, I wait for it to boot up. Good I see she is on line, and I hit the call button. My heart is racing yet I do not know why. At last the screen comes alive after just a few seconds of tiny delay as it hooks us up.

“Good morning” she types, she could talk but the rest of her family are still around and haven’t gone to bed yet, and she hasn’t told them about me. I love her beaming smile, and the why she giggles at my silly antics. For me it’s easy I just sit here in my little room I call the office, a place where the PC is and a load of junk paper work.  

“99” that is a signal for me to say that someone has entered the room, they can’t hear me, as she has earphones in, but like a scared chicken I stay still, until the threat of being discovered has gone. But sometimes when her brother is being rude to her I say things to make her laugh, her brother got so angry once because he didn’t know why she was laughing.

We say we love each other, and deep down I do. I hate my age and wish I was younger. Why O why…do I let the age thing bother me I do not know, maybe it is a sign of insecurity, I do not know. All I know is I love seeing her, no matter what is said, I don’t know how long it will last, but I don’t want it to end.

Although I do not want it to end I often say she should have the love of a man her age, I wish she could find the love in a man, who would love her as I do. Someone who cares for her takes their time to listen and not just rush in and have physical sex. I hope that one day we can meet, but real life that may just be a dream, I must say I would fly over there tomorrow if she’d let me.

6am I have to start to wind down the conversation it is 12pm in her time, we both have busy days ahead, blowing a kiss or two one of us hit the red phone.

Sitting there for a moment or two picking up my other mail to which I give a quick reply to if needed, I feel sad that she is gone. I pretend I am standing at the end of her bed watching her sleep, I know I’m sad, but to me I love her that much.

With a sigh, I turn the PCV off, and get dress properly. I now feed my dogs, a 4 year old black lab called diesel, and a 6 year old Pom called foxy, yappy thing she is. Now it’s time for their walk. As I walk she is on my mind or the latest song she has just sent me, I walk for about an hour and a half, I’m trying to lose a bit of weight as I had a row with my next door neighbour and he called me “Fatboy” and that rings in my ears all day long, if it wasn’t for treacle, I would have topped myself by now. I know I’m a little over weight (small belly) but I am not obese, yet his words stab me many times “fat boy fat boy fat boy”

I am a carer for my father in law and my sick wife. As I open the door, the smell hits me that tells me he has s**t the bed again. So outcome the air freshens. He’s 82, and now I am loading him on a host while the bath is running. It always happens on the carers days off ( I have outside nurse and carers that come in a few times a week). There all clean and fresh, I sit him in his chair and take my wife’s tablets to her, she takers 50 tablets daily getting them ready each part of the day is a night mare, 3 blue two green and the white ones I have to check the numbers and letters on them, but she is now done too. Time for breakfast I cook their breakfast, not wanting any myself because I’m a fat boy, so I nibble on a piece of slim bread.

Finally I can sit down and flick on the news while I drink my tea. A man’s work is never done. It’s a sunny day so the sheets can be washed and hung out to dry. I hate the sound of a hoover, (I don’t know why must have been scared by one in my other life when I was a dog LOL). Switching it on I quickly hoover up, tidy round and wash the dishes.

11 am I check on them all, he is okay and I give him a cup of tea and a biscuit, she is still a sleep in bed. I can’t help myself I go on line and see if she is on line I know she won’t be but, I’m daft enough to check, plus I check on my story writer page.

It’s the third time I tried to write something today, sometime things come thick and fast, and others I’m just listening to songs like “love like woe”, by the ready set, one which she got me into.

Gosh it’s 1 pm time to do their lunch; I leave hers as she is still asleep. He has had one of his attacks and I now have to spoon feed him….. “Here comes the chu chu train”, for me to say to an 82 year old is no fun but really he is just 2 mentally. He slaps me like a two year old, but with a force of and grown man. I taste the blood in my mouth as he has split my lip. The news is on and there is a story on someone beating up there elderly parents. At this moment in time I understand them I want to beat this man in front of me, as I scrape the food from the floor and recook some more. He’s crying now, because I think the 82 in him as just seen what he has done. I wipe away the tears, and comfort him the best I can. I place in to bed for an hour or two.

 

3.30pm The dogs are pestering me for another walk, it’s sunny so I agree, I stick a note on the door asking for no callers due to sick persons in bed, and I put the supper in the fridge ready to cook when I get back. I walk to the local pound and lay down, the sun on my face. I close my eyes; I can hear the dogs chasing each other, splashing in and out of the pound. I must have fallen asleep as I wake to a damp dog on my belly and one at my feet asleep, but I enjoyed those 40 winks.

6pm.

She has just gotten up and still in her night wear; I’ve cooked supper and told her about the day’s events. He is much better now and recovered from his attack, and is back to an 82 rude self “where’s me supper he yells” then says “your taking me the pub for a drink” I’m funny sarcastic with him and tell him “it’s on the stove cooking” and to wait, I correct him by saying I think what you meant to say was “could you please take me to the pub for a drink of beer” but it is lost on him for he says that what I just said, I give up.

6.15

I spend 10-15 talking to my treacle again her smiling face, relights my heart. Sometimes she is sad and I have to cheer her up, I’m sad that I have to dash off but will be back before I go to bed.

Just time to clean out by chickens and collect the 3 egg they give me daily, there worse than children, squabbling for my attention each not happy until I have stroked them all. Dishes done tea in hand time to either write or watch programme writing wins most of the time. Although I have to put myself off line to get on with it or I’ll get distracted and never do any writing

9-9.30pm time to do the machine meds, and the medicine round. As I count out the pair of their tablets, just for a second or two sometime, I think to myself….maybe…..But no it is just a fleeting thought.

10pm

All tucked into bed, me on the pc talking to treacle for 5 -10 minutes , I don’t want to go, but she has work to do and I need to sleep if I’m to get up at 4am to talk to my lovely treacle. So I’ll say my goodnights blow you a kiss as see you later. xxxxx

 

Author's Note

I don’t know whether I am right or wrong for loving someone so young and so far away, the biggest part of me doesn’t care, when I told a friend of mine about her, he accused me of grooming her, but my reply was she can see me it’s not if I’m saying I am 17, when I’m not. I also believe love doesn’t have to be sexual.
Does my wife know, about treacle, answer yes, how she feels, she not bothered, and doesn’t see her as a threat. To put it in her word “treacle helps you go on, with me and my dad it’s a wonder you’re not in a mental hospital”
Any other question I’ll gladly answer on here or personal in an email my address is on my profile.