Journal, March 8, 2005…..leaving Rio tomorrow.
“She tried without success to see beyond. To find the path leading
to the future, to their future. But all was dark, cloudy, full of foggy
mist, tiny lights flitting in when she least expected it.
Lights leading to hope, hopes of a life constructed of dream upon
dream, until it walked in and bit her. Knocked her in the head
with its head.
That’s what he used to do to introduce himself to someone new,
when he was young… and a few passed out. She hadn’t passed out,
but Lordy, he surely took her breath away.
She remembered her darling Carrie, who in the last episode
(Sex and the City), had said something wonderful, something so
“I believe in Love, inconvenient, all encompassing, can’t live
without it Love”
And now she’d found it, dreamed it, created it, and it completely
overwhelmed her. It’s power, the knowledge that no other man
could ever again walk into her life and possess her the way he did…
this one man.
He was the love of her life truly, and the swept away feet off the
ground, the heart over head of it creating waves of pure emotion
without name. And he had made it clear that it was mutual.
It was completely new territory, another universe, their own world.
.. Wasn’t that what he had said in that first poem….
“Meet me in a timeless world where we can be ourselves.
Where we are who we are..where I can be a true man who’s capable
to love a real woman, without limitations, without lies…
Free to become the most of our possibilities…”…”
The Present, May 2012… the story continues…
Reading this journal entry now makes me very sad…
sad for that girl there, the one with such overwhelming mind
stopping emotion and connection with this man.
At the same time, I feel such sadness at having lost it, for I do
love being in love, no matter how impossible it may be.
I believe in it.
The connection between us was real, and still is real.
I know it…he knows it.
He may have tried to move on, but the indelible sting of the
connection between us does not wash away, no matter the effort,
no matter the turning away, no matter what kind of elements you
may try to use, to dissolve away the stain.
Love is like grapejuice stains on the heart…
It’s something in this lifetime that doesn’t get to play out here,
on this particular plane of existence.
Too much territory to cover to get us to a place where who and
what we want is baked long enough and ready for consumption.
But… I think I’ve said this before… I do believe in other realities,
other dimensions, simultaneous places that we sometimes visit in
our dreams, or even at moments where this reality and the other
sort of cross wires, and things bleed through.
Strangely, I almost never dream of him. And that’s odd, because
I have quite vivid and emotional dreams with other people with
whom I have deep connections.
But there was a magic to the entire thing, with loud and blaring signs
of breaking through the illusion, those signs of that Jungian Web thing,
where everything’s connected, timings, words, clicks,
and simultaneous thought.
These things happened from day one, and although I have pushed
much of the joy and pain altogether, out of my day to day, still
when I review things like I must in order to write this story…..
still there are wellings up, waves of memory of what might have been,
what could be somewhere, sometime, somehow, in another life.
Soul connections, mapped out long before we got here, work to be
done, energies to be shared, knowledge to keep.
We tasted paradise, we drank it in, we cradled it to our hearts, and
we will never be the same because of it.
And isn’t that just great…. and can’t that be enough?