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2775's blog: "Mistakes we make"

created on 10/19/2006  |  http://fubar.com/mistakes-we-make/b15644

My Gift

The beginning... (A question was asked, “Next time, will you be ready” and here is my answer) Once upon my time, a long, long time ago, I was searching for something, something on a much deeper, more meaningful, more powerful level. Searching for something I had only thought to be a preposterous dream, a fairy-tale of sorts, yet somehow, for some reason, I continued secretly searching. One day while I was on the verge of giving-up my search, I was given the gift of meeting someone who had the ability to actually change my life, my way of thinking, my way of feeling, this person changed the innermost core of my very essence. This person appeared almost as a ghost of sorts, being able to see right through them as if they had nothing to hide revealing only their true inner sprit, a kind, giving, all loving gentle type of sprit. This person was sent to me, for me as a gift for I had always believed life didn’t have much to offer except for the black or white masks people adorn. They were sent to me in a time of despair, in a time of need, my despair, my need. They were sent to show me that life could be different; it could be everything one could wish for, but only if I were able to fully apply myself, able to fully return the gift I was so desperately searching for and about to receive. As with my nature, I was in disbelief. I didnt believe my outlandish fairy-tale like dream was about to come true. I underestimated and therefore abused my gift; I treated it poorly by putting it on the back-burner of life only paying attention when it was convenient for me to do so. Never fully understanding or appreciating the value of this gift, never fully applied myself, never able or willing to return the gift they had offered. I spent years regretting my actions, or lack of action. Carried on daily as if nothing had changed or nothing mattered. Again I was fooling myself for things had changed and things do matter. Over time I kept a stiff upper lip, embarrassed to admit to outsiders that such a gift was possible, ashamed of myself for letting it slip away, pretending I was okay with the loss of my gift, but secretly crying, slowly dieing on the inside for I knew that my selfish, thoughtless mistakes would haunt me for all eternity. Truly believing there was no heaven, only my self-made, self-inflicted hell. Continuing down my road of solitude, recalling all the wonderful, magical like possibilities, I once again set-out to look for what I had grown to know as the truth. Embarrassed more-so now for I know that a thing, a gift of such magnitude, could only be a once in a lifetime offering yet I continue to have hope. Hope for, at the very least, to have the chance to make amends for my many past oversights. Without warning, like being struck by lightning, there was another gift. Not just another gift, MY GIFT! A little skeptical of my learned lessons, but none-the-less the same beautiful gift as before. The only difference this time is my tears, this time they are on my seeable surface and they are tears of unbelievable joy. Could this be true I ask myself. Am I once again wrong with my beliefs, and my disbelief in some sort of a heaven? Is this gift bestowed upon me a ghost haunting me from my past, or an angel sent again from above? If an angel, why me..why me again? What did I do to deserve such positive karma? I have so many unanswered questions about life, my life and the meaning of my amazing fortune. All I know is; this time, if the stars line-up just right in the heavens above, I'll be ready! (After all the positive responses I received to the above writings I’ve decided to continue with another chapter to the story) In a whisper.. I was asked recently in an email if I were a writer. A writer? The question came about over reflection of my last writing, "Next time, will you be ready?" and most likely from a few previously. When I write about "her" I am not doing so as a writer but rather as someone that knows about tracing shadows. An artist? No. Am I published? No, I've never considered it. Therefore, am I a writer truly? Or am I merely a shadow myself? If I were a writer, who would want to read my words? Would others want to know? Would anyone believe? I speak only the truth here, there is no reason for fiction or falseness as I don't have to reach far within myself to find what is already and has been there. She is out there; I have no doubt of this. She was and is very real, as am I...now. Some say they love "hard"...we loved easy. Others say their love is "real", ours was predestined. You will hear others even say they long for this type of love, ours comes from no such longing or desire. Even others will say this type of love doesn't exist; love such as this DOES exist, it is extremely rare, but it does exist. My most dire fear is growing older as I have now by 10 years, and finding myself at the end of my life one day and she is not there. As if “in a whisper” her name will be the last words to escape my lips with my final breath. Many of us have been deeply hurt by love, scorned, abused, lied too, or abandoned. The list can and is endless when love fails or never was there in the first place. I am no different. I had loves before her, or so I thought. It was "with" her that my world transpired..as did hers. Into a place neither of us had known before, but has always known since for once you feel it, you know it. “I knew you existed, I just couldn't find you" I whisper. We started out as friendly, concerned voices on the phone but I have to say that those were the days that I felt re-born, truly alive for the first time. We both came in and out of temporary but long-term relationships that were ill fitted and ill fated. It was when we both were at the point of giving up, we found one-another. But you see, I never was one to believe that once you "stop" searching, whatever you are searching for will "find" you. No, I was far too sensible. Then one day, without effort but with much longing, she appeared...my gift. From the first moment I looked into those stunning eyes the world seemed brighter, richer, and more beautiful than any other time before..or since. I knew right then I had found the one person in the world who could understand me like no other. The magnetic pull to her was indescribable and I was completely drawn-in. With every facet of her I am fascinated and oddly, at home with. With the soft caring touch of her hand, the happy confidence in her voice, and the content look in her eyes, she conveyed a mysterious love far deeper, more intriguing than any I had ever dreamed possible. Loving her was easy; being loved by her was about a place I never imagined. She calmed my soul, she knew how to reach into my heart and she allowed me to find the “me” that I never knew existed...never knew until "you", never knew until “us”. Merely watching her on a windy day at the beach as she lay against me, closed eyes, and a soft smile forming at the corner of her lips was like peering into heaven. I would watch her and my own heart smiled, embracing her. She would turn to me with big open eyes, her hair blowing in the wind and say, "I love you" and my whole world was complete. I've read somewhere that you must be "complete" before you can find "completeness". That a person can not be "completed" by another, rather you must be "whole" first. They have it all wrong. There are those out there that "do" in fact "complete" us, they are our other halves..our soulmates..our sunshine. While we were together, I remember being able to talk to complete strangers and saying whatever I wanted with complete confidence. Oh sure, most of the time I was flipping them shit and being a pain, but it usually made them smile for they just knew our hearts were pure. I remember sitting across from one-another in a restaurant talking and listening, intensely starring eye-to-eye, while tightly hand-in-hand and a couple of passing “older” women paused to look at us. They didn’t notice what I thought they would, instead they only noticed how much in love we were and then gave us a seemingly reminiscent smile as they went on their way. Of course we were just another couple, just not your average, typical couple. There was an incredible energy surrounding and projecting off us that was undeniable to anyone who saw us. And during that time I was happy with myself, the supremacy she gave me, the “you” she so willingly shared of herself , the magnificent noticeable sprit that surrounded her wherever she went, and ultimately the beautiful gift of “us” we were becoming. I remember those days so clearly as I was on top of the world and nobody could knock me down...nobody except me! And for this mistake, I will forever be banished to the emptiness and solitude of memories. I was awoken early this morning by the sound of raindrops falling on the rooftop outside the bedroom window. From a sound sleep I awoke and listened to each drop as the rain slowly increased in a subtle methodical tapping. I lifted my wrist to look at my watch; it was 2:30 am. and I thought of her..still. How I miss her..still. How I love her..still. She and I were more than just a couple, or a relationship. We are the same. We needed and wanted, desired and knew, heard and spoke, longed for and wished, doubted and feared, laughed and cried, kissed and whispered...all the same. We knew what others didn't. We had what others only dreamed of. We had the freedom to get utterly lost in each-other. I continued to lay there alone in my thoughts for a while, closing my eyes, listing to each raindrop, and feeling the tears puddle-up then spill-over from the corner of my eyes while reminiscing of her...of us. No doubt she’s tried to find this love again in her loneliness living in #*#*#*; funny, I’ve tried to find it here. We've searched people's souls and couldn't find it..couldn’t find "us". We've attempted to love them and grew frustrated and angry. We sometime lay with others trying to find that safe harbor we once knew and only drifted further out to sea. We tried to find reasons to love, when with us the reason was apparent....because it was you, because it was me. We claimed to have found a new happiness and at the end of each day we would be filled with remorse, wanting to be alone, crying invisible tears knowing in our hearts the happiness we once knew with each-other could not be formed or forged in the arms of others. We knew then. We know now. Can you hear me cry-out for you “in a whisper”?...I love you..still. I failed her, I believe in some ways, when I listened with my head and stopped listening with my heart. I know I have failed myself in growing older, attempting to live and love with a heart held together by twine and patchwork. Some struggle all their lives to find this kind of love and they doubt its very existence. It does exist and I failed us both when I took it for granted and believed it does not need constant nurturing. Have we all not been at fault for such things? Maybe, but with this type of love it goes far beyond those of mortal loves so-to-speak, it delves into all the loves you've read or heard about, romantic love, spiritual love, love blessed by Angels, pre-destined love; love. We've looked for one-another’s souls in all the places we've gone, in the eyes of strangers, sometimes taking them in as "relationships" and sometimes settling on something familiar but less fulfilling only to turn on them and ourselves as to never finding the completeness we once knew with one-another. No, my love for her has not died...or ever will, though I've tried to convince myself it had for some time in order to move on, but if that were the case, in retrospect, we both died on that dark day when we saw one-another for the last time. My last time, for sunshine. If you can hear my whisper...you will feel my love. If you can feel my love...you will hear your heart. If you can hear your heart...you will know. If you can know...you will feel me. Yes baby...I know!....I feel you too.
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