Love and Magick. 3

Love and Magick

I have never really being one for love spells I hardly thought that was what I was doing, but it was. It was about six weeks before I left my ex-fiancé. In my heart I still hoped that it would make him understand how much I loved him. That was not however what I asked for. I don't remember much of the spell save for making a list for my true love. One white rose cut in half, one red, and then bound in ribbon. I asked for kindness, generosity, intelligence, and more I can not remember. The sensations of the petals on my fingers lingers longer than the words.

I had already dedicated my life to the Goddess by then. I surrender my life and destiny to Her will and work. No great ritual. I just lay down in the middle of the night under and old oak tree and gave all of myself over to Her. (This sounds smutty but I just figured I had been making a hash of things She could probably do much better).

I cast the spell and gave the left over roses to the earth and river.

Within six weeks I was in a tiny room with blue walls and red curtains. A single bed of tiny proportions. Yet I was happier than I had ever been. I was also dead broke. The Jobcenter told me I was not eligible for any money. So I worked giving healing and doing tarot readings, sometimes out of pubs.

My one-day-husband-to-be ran a pub. We had met about 2 years before. Our first meeting I don't remember. (But he does). I was very sick and sad at the time. The second time, I remember. This slim, elegant mysterious man with long dark hair and beard. He wore a waist coat and pocket watch, but it wasn't for effect. I later learned he would come to the rock club after work wear he had to dress smartly. My tall, slim, could have been a model friend was flirting with him. He flirted right back. He drop and ice cube down her back and I don't know why I retaliated. I grabbed him and dropped an ice-cube down his trousers. Only he smirked at me and shook it out of his untied boot. The lights and music pulsed around us and was shaken to my core by my own desire. Yet he flirted with everyone, and I do mean everyone. Yet he always went home alone. I never thought for one second he thought me any different than the other's he flirted with.

A defining moment for both of us was when I snapped a ligament in my ankle (well the bone gave way where it was attached) running for a train to do my Christmas, Yuletide shopping in Manchester.

I felt it CRACK like a whip but I hobbled onto the train. I put it up and wrapped it in my scarf but by the time I got to Manchester I could put no weight on it and it was the size of my knee. I could speak no words I was in so much pain and I had to be wheeled through Manchester train station. My ex-fiancé was called and rather than come and get me, he sent his friend instead. I ended up in a hospital in Manchester with Sid beside me. All the while him looking pale and guilty. They said it wasn't broken (I found out ten years later that it had been after it went again). I left strapped up an on pain killers and on crutches. I was still expected to cook and rather unlike myself I burned myself getting his food out of the oven a little while later.

Still we had planned to go to the Christmas part at the rock club near us. We met at a friends house first on the way, but my arms and hands were sore and I couldn't keep up. Two people stayed with me, and helped carry me that night. One of them was the happiest goth I have even know call Tig, the other was Ken. That night should have been awful. Normally my ex- sat in a corner brooding while I danced like a demon. Yet tonight he danced and this irked my friend Tig immensely. He grabbed me round the waist and propped me up, then Ken went to the otherside so I could not fall over, so I could dance. It was bliss we all giggled like children. When I could stand no more and my ankle began to throb, Ken sat me down and massage my foot and ankle. His eyes seemed black (they are blue) as he stared up at me. I actually thought my knickers might melt! It was the most erotic thing that had even happened to me and I was in no way a shrinking violet!

At the end of the night, back at our friends house drinking tea, our taxi's back to where we were staying turned up and he got up and part of me really wanted to go with him. I never dreamed he felt the same way. Some time later Ken confessed that had been the night he finally realised he was in love with me.

Six weeks after the spell I was in his bedroom. I was freshly single and had been propping up the bar of his pub all evening. I got quite drunk. Ken made me up a bed on a spare air mattress in his room. After getting undressed and laying there a while, I got up and passionately kissed him. He kissed me back and as I lay on the air mattress I waited for him to pounce.

He however, did not.

I was quite peeved. It seems funny now. He was of course making sure that I didn't do something I might regret after a bad break up. In the morning I felt weird but we could not keep our hands to ourselves. We talked and laughed, and talked some more. He ran the pub all day and evening as he usually did and when he closed up he brought up a bottle and some ice. We shared a little almond liqueur and made passionate love all night the like of which was unprecedented. The blue of morning was up before we got some sleep curled up together.

Much to the ire of some of our “friends” I firmly refused to define what was going on between Ken and I. We loved doing the same kinds of stuff like walking around flea markets and much of the same kinds of foods. I was in a health food store when Ken mentioned his love of dried apricots. I flung my arms around him declaring “I love you”. Only to realise what I had said and pretend it hadn't happened.

I enrolled in another course, one teaching massage and holistic therapies. I studied in the week and spent the weekends with Ken. It was bliss. Ken then got offered a different pub, one in my home town in Wales. It felt like fate. Ken asked me to move with him and I agreed. It is no mean feat moving house by train but we did it. Unfortunately some of our most valuable items were stolen in the move. One of the few trips back to Crewe where I had been living I am talking about relationships and how much being engaged sucked. I said “If I was ever going to get married I would just go and do it.”

Ken turns to me and says quietly; “Is three weeks okay?”

I looked at him to say something and opened my mouth. Only to shut it again much like a goldfish.

Tears began pouring down my face, and it took the whole trip back to Crewe and to the house for me to find my voice to say yes. We had been together three months. After a hot cup of tea, I said that six months would be better and we agreed.

A lot happened in that time but we managed to make it . We got made homeless and jobless and even found a dog. I found out I was pregnant just before the wedding. We paid for it ourselves and we walked together don the aisle. The morning of my wedding my mother was trying to talk me out of getting married. Fifteen years later it has not always been easy not I have not regretted that day once.