The chair and The Midnight Library

I’ve recently read a fabulous book called ‘The Midnight Library’. It is a thought provoking fiction book about life decisions and the millions of different lives we could have had, all based upon the decisions we and others make. I highly recommend it. I’ve passed it on to my sister who isn’t a reader but who is binge reading it as we speak.

I am someone who believes very much in the recycle, upcycle, reuse movement. I love browsing in charity shops for bargains and on Gumtree or Buy, Sell, Swap for treasures. I have found some absolute gems from time to time. I don’t see the point in buying new if there is a perfectly good secondhand one available.

My recent trawl for a desk for my son led me to finding solid wood table and chairs for £25. Apart from the amazing price, I was also amazed by the pictures and the description. I had previously owned the chairs before, and indeed had one left – the rest worn out and burnt on the fire at some point. So what? I hear you say. Well, in the description, it was stated that they were from my boyfriend’s country- or styled in that fashion.

I have said this before, but I believe that my life has led up to meeting him. Yes, yes…I know this is highly romanticised but it amazes me how much I had clearly loved his culture and country without actually knowing it.

Take his cuisine. I have been cooking a version of his cuisine at least since my daughter was a baby and probably before. 17 years, give or take. I love the flavours associated with his culture, without realising it in some cases. Ok, yes… I cook other cultures too – Greek, Chinese, Thai, Indian. Thing is, I hadn’t filled my house with objects from these cultures. I had for his culture.

There is a jewelry box I bought five years ago. Jewelry in a filigree style which I love, bought ten years ago. Colours that I love, very much of his culture.

There are certain pieces of music, particularly from films, which I love which is definitely of his culture. They call to me and I sink heart and soul into them.

I was amazed when I first started speaking to him, because I realised how many items I had in my possession with a link to his country. I was astounded when I saw his beautiful country – its landscapes and architecture and culture – how much it encapsulated all that I love.

When I think back over the years of my adulthood and the way that I have tried – and wanted – to live my life, there are remarkable similarities to his culture that I had no idea about until I visited him a year ago. My values are unique in my family to a certain extent: they are his. I knew next to nothing about his country – I even had to look up where it was as I wasn’t sure.

Without a doubt, he is everything that I find attractive in a man: he is my type. But it is more than that.

About four years ago, I had a vision dream. I’ve only had three in my life. They are dreams of absolute brilliance and clarity, unlike a normal dream. And when you wake you feel an energy, an awakening, a knowing that is profound.

In my dream someone (who I now know looks very much like him) walked through my door – tripping over as he did so. In real life my heart flipped and I woke from my dream with wonder. I didn’t recognise this man, had no idea why this sudden thought had come into my head, and knew that there was something more to it than a normal dream. When you dream about a someone, in general, whilst they may not look like that person, you tend to know who it is. This person was a stranger. The dream came to me from nowhere and appeared in my mind with some force, clarity and brilliance. (The only other dreams I have had like this were after the death of my Grandfather. I will tell you about it sometime.)

I don’t know if it is fate or destiny. I don’t know if it is coincidence. I just know that it appears that my life, my decisions have led to him. I belong with him.

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