Divorced in such a spectacular fashion it killed my soul. It’s an accumulative thing. The retribution conscious or otherwise was delivered with very deliberate intent. It’s like an athlete being tripped at the end of a marathon, or beating a boxer out of the ring to tired to fight.
It was a few years before that from where this memory came, and a only a couple of years after that that it surfaced. I remember the excitement I felt as a teenager trying to fluke the ring from the candy machine that I wanted to give her before my friend ran out of loose change. I remember pockets of elated happiness, moments of excruciating laughter, and for some strange reason, a wedding. All impossible, and easy to dismiss if it weren’t for a girl standing at the top of the stairs one day long ago. But everything else is like an unreasonable war zone between us that we never get past. We come back to the same unresolved dynamic that results in conflict.
If this failed, if this one life failed it would be the final chance for the kingdoms of consciousness and any depth of humane and free existence. As it is today, our world has been driven into near unrecoverable engineered insanity. Our failing civilization and Planets dying environment lays as evidence.
My higher self was done with her. If we don’t graduate this, if we don’t pass this conversation, it will be another failed cycle and reality will go mad. It was only the woman that took a blade through the shoulder that saved her from permanent severance and plummeting me into unrecoverable insanity.
It would have been a couple of years after that happened that she woke me. Since then it’s been twenty four years of breadcrumbs and flashes of a wasteland in conflict and contradiction between us. But I remember that ring. I remember laughter. Was there something between us ? There was good stuff in there, and the scarcest of memories of something that resembles good ties, but the rest is a bloody hell. Woken now, I was bound by a story of someone I thought I had loved. How far would you go to hold on to that ?
That night, divorced, having never been married, and laying there dead, I remember her saying that it was something that had to happen. That I should be proud of myself that it had taken so much to bring me to release.
Finally I was dead, my soul ready for disintegration. Another world could burn and it wouldn’t mean a darn thing to me, It couldn’t break my heart again. Dead is dead. I didn’t care what she was saying, my help was no longer wanted, It was no longer my responsibility, I could do nothing more. But something stirred in me. The presence of a familiar spirit and soul. ‘What are you doing to him’, She demanded. I couldn’t turn away. Her conviction compassionate and sincere. The occurrence, her presence, romantic or otherwise was enough to ignite a new flame in my heart and being. A new energy, a new consciousness, free of the olde binds.
The next thing I remember I was some where in the backyard that I normally wasn’t, stumbling back to my room.
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