(NOTE: Inspired by a journal about past events, does NOT reflect the present.)
I am sitting in this place. It is quiet.
Ah it hurts. These paintings that are Girl to my love. Girlfriend says she knows why the art arrived, because they are connected to Girl. They are the energy or essence of Girl, or whatever. That is why the colors caught her. That is why she could not forget them. That is why she bought both. And Girlfriend sits there, in the dark, staring staring staring at these stupid neon representations of her brand new, life-changing love.
Girlfriend says Girl broke her open and set her free from the aching and pain she felt her whole life. Girlfriend says Girl brings her to tears. Girlfriend says Girl is probably from her home starseed planet, that is why Girl feels like everything she has been missing. Girlfriend says Girl makes her feel things she’s never felt in her life.
Blah blah blah blah blah, good for you.
I don’t think Girlfriend understands the weight of her words. I don’t think she understands how much they sting. She has always been expressive, always wore her heart on her sleeve, and I have loved this about her. But now I wish she would shove her heart somewhere dark where I cannot see it, because I do not want to see it. I only want her heart on her sleeve when it is my name tattooed inside of it.
And what am I in this? What am I as the love of my life swirls and tumbles and weeps and is deathly obliterated by Girl’s presence? What am I when the world is slipping and sliding them together? How does one do this? How do I open my heart when it is screaming to be closed, how do I hold on to our life together when it has been upended, how do I believe in this path?
But I know this is the path. This is the way. I KNOW, I know this to be true, as my heart breaks wide open ten times an hour I know this to be true. And Spirit whispers:
Do not give up
Do not falter
Press on, dear child, press on
You are getting everything your heart desires
You are receiving all that you dream of
Have faith, dear child
This is not the end
The pain is temporary, but the rewards are great
Our queen, our love
This is the dawning of your light
This is the donning of your crown
This is death for rebirth
This is ashes and dust before the rising of the Phoenix
Trust us
Trust us
Trust us
Trust what you know to be true
(I despised the paintings for months, but I got over it. I love them now.)
