Responding To The Ways...

I’ll kiss you back when you kiss me in front of my parents while I'm pregnant with our first child. I'll probably blush the rest of the day as you remind them of the day you met them and how terrified they were of the idea of you and how far we’ve all come from then.

I won’t tattoo your name on my skin, I'm not big on tattoos but I’ll ink our wedding date on my ring finger as a reminder of my commitment to you. My forever. 

I’ll hang the picture in our bedroom. Just above our bed. The picture of your future. The one with me in it. 

My dream is to see the world. I want to see the world through your eyes and I want you to see the world through mine. I want you to see my eyes light up as I see the Eiffel Tower for the first time at night and I want you to take my hand while we are on the boat ride in Venice. I want you to drool at my perky butt as I walk towards the ocean in my barley there bikini in Greece and I want you to hold me as I giggle and we dance the night away in Amsterdam. 

I’ll write you a song. I’ll write a song only you would ever hear. I'll hum melodies that only you can understand. I’ll write you a song of you. I’ll write you into a song. I'll sing to you. 

I'll cry sometimes, maybe a lot. Because I'm emotional and I'm female and I get to cry. I'll tell you I need you and I'll  hope you understand and if you don't understand, I'll hope you help me understand why. I hope you'll kiss away my tears. 

When you're sad or frustrated with work or life, I'll be there. I won't freak out. I'll make sure you're fed (you know what I'm like) and I'll sit with you and place my hand on your heart and my head on your shoulder. I hope you'll wrap your arms around me and watch your frustrations disappear even if for a second. I hope I'm your home. I hope I'm your peace. I intend to be. 

I'm going to get mad at you. A lot. I won't apologise all the time. Even when I'm wrong. I'll sulk and yearn for attention while making shakara. I’ll apologise when you get mad. I hope it's not often. 

I’ll cook. For you. With you. For our kids. With our kids. I'll rub flour on your cheeks and you'll retaliate and I'll get fake mad and send you out of the kitchen but you won't leave. You'll come up behind me and hold my waist and I'll smile and turn around and kiss your lips and tell you to behave. 

I’ll dress up for dinner dates. And you'll look at me like you're seeing me for the first time. Every time. And I'll lower my gaze and giggle as you take my hand, proud that I'm with you. 

I'll take you on dinner dates. And you'll let me. Because I want to. And because you like it when I do. Because I like balance. And so do you. And because every now and then, only RALEY, you'll be sort of broke.

I’ll call you good looking. Because you are. When you call me sexy, I'll smile and call you good looking. Even when you're mad at me, I'll call you good looking. Because you are. 

I'll look at you from across the room and you'll get the message because you get me. Even when it's bad. 

I won’t look through your phone. But I'll ask questions. A lot. And I hope you're honest all the time. 

I’ll never lie to you.

We'll workout together. Because I like to be in shape. And because we are cool like that. 

I won't pick a fight with another woman. I've learnt not to. I'll ask you questions though. A lot. And I hope you're honest all the time. 

I’ll come. With you. For you. Every time. 

We’ll cuddle. Most of the time (lol you know what I'm like) 

We’ll argue and bicker and fight sometimes. And when we do, it may be my fault. But we'll never go to bed mad at each other. We'll have a conversation. At the very least. 

I'll be honest with you. I'll be kind to you. I'll love you. In ways you couldn't have envisioned. 

There’s 22 ways to loving me
And I'm responding to all of them

Got the original post from a friend's blog here- Toxic and played with a response. :) Enjoy.

The year I saw death... And Life!

On January 1st 2017, I attempted to take my own life by taking a mixture of narcotics and pain medication...

In a mixture of rage, sadness and hopelessness, she laid in her bed unable to breathe
Panting heavily and running out of breath just as quickly, she wanted (needed) it to be over.
"Deep breaths N, deep breaths. This isn't how you die. Deep breaths"
Nothing seemed to be working... She was certain this may well be her last day on earth.
Lying there, eyes shut, devastated, the tears came down with a vengeance. 
"This is death" she said to herself. "This is how I die and I kill myself". She screamed!

Her sisters came running. It was early in the day, early in the year. Time to journey back 'home'.
"What is going on?" "Why aren't you breathing properly?" "Why are you crying?" They asked.
"It's gone" she said. "They've taken everything and it's all gone".
All the years of hard work and commitment. The distance covered, the roads travelled. Her "love" was gone. 
She didn't think she could cope. She wasn't strong enough. Love, Lust, Loss. 

As she lay waiting for death, her support system held her hands. 
Her sisters were all she'd ever known, all she ever needed. 
She loved them. She wished she could tell them. 
All she could do was lay there... and cry... and wait... and die. 


3 days later, she was in Cape Town. The trip that saved her life. Literarily. 
There were nights she cried but she was surrounded by love.
Pure, unconditional, unequivocal love.


3 weeks later, she found love. It was exhilarating. 
For the first time in 2 years, she was falling completely in love with herself. 
She looked in the mirror and saw god. 

She was love, she was god. 

And for the first time, she could give love from a whole bank. 

She looks back at her struggles and she smiles. In death, she found life and in herself, she found LOVE. 


She no longer fears death because she sees the god that she is, through the eyes of the God that she serves. 
And now, she gets to live. Abundantly. 

It is finished!