The Perfect Fit - A Psychic Romance, Laney's Past Life & Love by TY Gister Page A

Here I can sit with my back to the wall, by this time of the morning the sun has come around, so sheltered from the wind this is the perfect spot for pondering
and
people watching
.
Easing my rucksack off, I shove it on a spare chair and then sit down. It's still relatively quiet, the lunch time busyness has not started yet. A middle aged couple pass by, holding hands, laughing. They look happy and comfortable together. How nice would that be? To be so at ease with someone, to have someone to confide in, to love and who loves you back.
    That's the problem, it's as if my heart has gone to sleep and I have no idea how to wake it up. Of course I love my daughters and my family but it's as if part of me has shut down. I'm not exactly sure what part it is even, it's as if I've partially removed myself from living life somehow. I'm great at helping other people, being a shoulder for them to cry on, well actually less of the shoulder than the helping hand. Helping them up and out of their mess. Somehow I seem to effortlessly inspire other people, helping them to focus on what they want to do and then make a plan to get it. Often it's just emotional support they need, a few practical tips and then wham, they're suddenly on their way. So why can't I do that for myself? God only knows!
    I'm not sure I even know what I want. According to a therapist I saw for a while, the reason for that lies in my past. Married to a domineering older man and pregnant by my twenty first birthday; I managed to go from sixteen to thirty six almost overnight. We lived and worked together, apparently his own insecurities regarding the age difference contributed to his increasingly angry and abusive attitude to life and me. He saw my colour and vibrancy of youth as a threat, something to be stamped upon, a light that had to be extinguished. I described it as like living in a cage for twenty odd years. I observed life, but I didn't really take part in it.
    I've been divorced for six years now and yet somehow life hasn't really moved on. I'm living as if I were still restrained and controlled but there's only me doing the restraining. The stupid thing is, I have no idea how I'm doing it. I've moved, several times. I've tried new things, I've learnt new things and yet right here, right now in this lucid moment of clarity, I can see there's a core that stays the same; the way I feel. My heart feels numb to things. I suppose I got used to being in that cage; because in there, no one can hurt you, not really hurt you. But in there, no one can really love you either.
    Every time I move home, I think I've ditched the cage, but I haven't, I seem to take it with me, the cage is always there, it just changes shape and location. Somewhere along the line, I lost myself and I have no idea right now of what to do about it. God I have no idea of what I want, what I like or if I have the bloody energy to make it happen. I must be jinxed in some way or maybe I was an incredibly bad person in a previous life. I just hope it was bloody worth it!
    I definitely need that coffee. Turning round to look inside, I can see Cath is busy. Most of the tables are occupied. The cooked breakfast here is really popular, despite the constant barrage of healthy eating ads on the telly. Thick cut bacon, with crispy rind, two free range eggs and a doorstep wedge of fresh bread, it's pretty hard to beat. Not many people go out to eat muesli I suppose. I'm in no hurry and decide not to go in. I'll just sit and wait for a bit and order when things have calmed down.
    I don't know many people here, but as I've adopted this place as a regular haunt, I've got to know Cath, she's down to earth and practical, just like me. She also has a few 'alternative' interests, just like me. I think we'll become really good friends. Her husband Joe spends most of his time in the kitchen, he's the cook and she's front of house.
    Pulling my notebook and journal out of my polka dot rucksack, I root around for the pencil