A text and a prayer (including an evening update)

Received, unexpectedly, on Sunday, 25th, h 15.56, after two days of me jumping whenever I heard the tone for an incoming text, because I didn't expect one, because the only person who texts me regularly is my lovely Ian, and I knew it could not be him.
So now, "message received", I can only think it's mum, or Ana, or Bride friend or any other friend checking on my well-being. I am just back into my room after spending two hours in the kitchen, where I had scrambled eggs while concentrating on the tv, and then I cleaned the oven and grill so well, because tonight, or one day this week, since I am working only 3 days, I will bake bread. Oh, yes, I will bake bread. It will be three-grain bread, not from the recipe book I got from my birthday, not yet, but just an experiment, and like in "We were the Mulvaneys", I will make bread and my tears, mixing with the dough I will be kneading, will make it special.

So, message received, and I believe it is mum. Instead it's Ian.

"Hey Peggy. Thks for t txt on Fri & for the courage & strength you always show. I do want to be ur friend, because ur a fantastic person & i will always thank God that we met. I hope ur ok & will have a good week*"

I am crying before getting to the end.

I have so many tears to cry, still. It seems I will never stop.

But this post was meant to be a place for a prayer I found on the website of the band: the reason is that I have just been "nominated" on Facebook, for some interesting things:

§ for being most likely to correct my housemate's grammar (possibly, but her English is extremely good);

§ for being most likely to sing in the shower (not likely at all...the shower is the only place where I never sing);

§ for being most likely to love like I've never been hurt. So unfortunately, painfully true;

§ for being most likely to live for music. So completely true.

So here is a prayer for all those who believe in music, and in the power of music.

PREGHIERA DEL MUSICANTE

O SIGNORE
che hai raccolto nell’armonia dell’Universo
tutte le voci del Creato:
il ruggito del leone
e il gorgheggio dell’usignolo,
il cupo fragore del tuono
e il fresco mormorio delle sorgenti,

NOI TI PREGHIAMO
affinché, sorretti dalla Tua fede
e per amore di essa,
possiamo elevare le voci dei nostri strumenti
fino alle argentee trombe
e alle arpe dorate
degli angeli del Tuo Paradiso.

BENEDICI
i grandi talenti della nostra arte,
benedici tutti coloro che nella musica
elevano la mente e lo spirito;
unisci le loro voci
affinché nello spazio infinito
giungano fino a Te.

CONCEDI A NOI
Il Tuo aiuto per proseguire
nel cammino che molti prima di noi
hanno segnato sul pentagramma
e fa’ che possiamo,
attraverso i nostri strumenti,
diffondere il Tuo messaggio
di fratellanza e di pace,
esaltare la Tua gloria,
dare gioia e speranza ad ogni spirito umano
nel solo, unico linguaggio universale: la musica.
Amen

*********************

Evening update: the phone rings, and once again I expect it to be mum.

But no, it's Ian.

I take the phone, and I almost pick up.

Then I let it ring, and ring, and ring.

Finally I listen to the message he's left on the answer phone.

Just calling to know if how I am, and wanting to say hi. No problem if (can't understand this bit, damn me). Hope I have a good week, speak to me some time. Cheers.

Crumbs, I hate the following:

- when he says "cheers", because it's a signal of distance;

- when he says "cool", which is a signal that a situation is upsetting for him;

- when he says "speak to you some time".

Anyway. I decided not to answer because the time off I have given him, to think over our relationship as friends, to calm down, to wash away his sense of guilt and all that, is meant to be a time off for myself too, and for my hurting heart.

I don't want to end up like in September, when I crawled to his house, red-eyed and desperate, almost trying to make him change his mind, trying to force him to give me a reason, almost making him angry, and unchaining that sense of guilt that has brought us here, today.

I want to work my pain out by myself, and I need time by myself, to read, pray, work, go to the gym, study, plan my Christmas holidays, be quiet for a while. If I go cold turkey on him, and we meet again when he is back from Malta, or maybe in January, it will be a lot better, because I will have had enough time to recover.

I deserve it, don't I? I deserve my time to feel better.

Ian has his studies, to keep him busy and concentrate all day and all night, he has God to talk to, and he is surely less troubled than I am, he eats and sleeps properly, because he is in peace with himself and with God.

I, on the contrary, am looking for peace in me, and am seeking God every moment of my day, and worries weigh on me like marble, no matter how often I read the Bible or pray. I find it hard to think that God will take care of me, especially considering what I am going through, but I want to trust Him and be confident that things will work out fine.

I only need a bit more time, because I have no-one to guide me now. Once again, I trusted Ian to be my guide in discovering God, but all he could tell me, three days before getting back together, was to speak to the priest in the church in Hove.

I'd like to go to some Bible reading, somewhere, but they all happen to be in the morning, for old people, or housewives with little else to do. I suppose I will need some more research on Internet...

Anyway. Almost nine o'clock, and no movie tonight, then. I'll go back to my books and prepare for tomorrow: lessons, and a long time at the gym, to concentrate on my running and lose myself.