We all are alive, we are all here today, and trying to make sense of our lives, of where we are going, of who we are. We are all trying to be someone, to make a difference. To change the world and make a life for ourselves. 

But everyone is different, everyone is beautiful in their own way, and we all can do it. We can all change the world in a small way, just by being alive, we have all made a difference to someone's life. We have made a difference in our parents lives, sibling's lives, Grandparent's lives, friends lives, teachers lives, we have all affected someone in someway. 

A friend of mine said to me today that she no longer sees me as a victim, that my past doesn't define all I am today. That I am more confident in myself (true, but only to a certain degree). She said how I was a strong personality, and how I had greater understanding of life than most people my age. 

It made me realize that actually I have come so far from where I was this time two years ago, or even a year ago. She is right, I am in a way, a totally different person. 

And this person has moved on. She has a new life now. And is learning to deal with the emotional abuse she has been dealt. 

Today I was writing my book, Time To Save A Life. The one about a surgeon. 

And well, I was having a little trouble. Because I really want to portray an undercurrent of sexuality between Izabelle, the main character and her friend and colleague Connie. I don't want it to be obvious. I mean they are not lovers. Well, as far as the reader is aware they are not. But I want the sexual tension between the two of them. And it is hard to write that kinda stuff. 

Anyway, I am going to write what I have got so far...see what you think...

Its Connie's birthday and she has just opened her present from Izabelle...

She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said softly "It's beautiful. Both of them are beautiful. You're beautiful" I smiled at her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Hugging her like my life depended on it. She didn't resist, and just melted into my arms, holding on to me just as tightly. Then, suddenly, she pulled me against her, and fell back against the sofa, and before I knew it I was curled between her legs, with my body pressed against hers. I tilted my head up and smiled at her. Then buried myself in her warmth. My head nestled on her breasts. For a moment I felt like I was in heaven. This woman was so soft and sexy it was impossible not to want to hold onto her for eternity. She wrapped her legs around mine and tighten her grip on me. But neither of us said a word. There was no need. Our faces and bodies did all the talking for us. 


What do you think then?? Is it loving enough...do you think that they could be lovers??

Which was fun, I have been going for just over a year now, and am totally loving it. For a couple of hours a fortnight I can forget everything, but just keeping me heels down and rising and falling in time with the horse. I don't need to think about the amount of homework I have, grades, UCAS, University, EPQ, and any of that. I don't need to worry about it all. Nothing matter except getting the best out of your horse. 

My Angel is my guiding light...that keeps me going through all the hurt and pain...the memories that hurt me deeply...the tears that I can't cope with alone...

My Angel is my hope for the future...my idol, and the woman that I look up to above all others.

My Angel is who I aspire to be like in the years to come...to be as loving, caring and considerate as her. 

My Angel is the voice of reason. She is the ear that listens to all that I have to say. She is the shoulder that I cry those painful tears on.

My Angel is the mother inside of me...the mother that loves all of me.

My Angel is the reason for the tears trickling down my cheeks right now. She is the reason for the love that once again, I can feel. 

And I know that My Angel will always be there for me. Until forever is over.

Me and Mum saw the film the other week. Its Beautiful. Absolutely Beautiful. I nearly cried, several times. I love it. All of it. And the ending was perfect. I nearly cried there as well. 

And so I read the book. Which I finished yesterday. It was equally beautiful. And made me nearly cry almost as much. And in fact in a couple of places I did cry. 

Its about this little girl Lily, who has grown up thinking that she accidently killed her mother, when she was just four years old. Now, 14, she wishes for forgiveness and a Mother's love. Her only friend is a black servant Rosaleen. 

Racial tension explodes that summer and Rosaleen is arrested and beaten. Lily breaks her out and the two of them run away together. Finding sanctuary in the home of three sisters; May, June and August. Lily starts on a journey uncovering the mystery of her mother. 

My favourite character is August. She is...well lets just say is she was real I would love to be her daughter. I would give anything for that. In the film she is play by Queen Latifah, one of my favourite actresses. August is everything that I think a mother should be. Kind. Understanding. Forgiving. Sympathetic. Caring. Loving. Beautiful. 

As I was reading a bit in the book about Lily hugging August and pouring all her sorrow over her, well, it made me want my own August. A motherly figure to love. Then I stopped and thought, well I do, don't I? I have Sara. She is my mother. She is the one I run to. I tell her everything. She chooses to love me. She doesn't have to. She chooses to. For all my faults. She believes in me. She loves me. Like August loves Lily. 

I love Sara so much. So much that sometimes it actually hurts. 

Of course, I have my own Mother. Not like Lily., But a surrogate mother can say more than an actual mother sometimes. A mother has to love their child do they? Someone who chooses to love you, choose to be your Other Mother. They can show you a kind of love that, in a way, can mean more. 

Yea, I do love my Mum, I love her more than words can say. I'd rather die than see her hurt again. But Sara brought me back to life. Because she choose to love me.