The Meeting

At 7pm on September 16 2013. I first looked into his eyes. I was already excited, I had thought he was someone else I already knew and liked. when he looked back at me I could see in his eyes he was excited too. He already liked me and wanted to meet, his eyes conveyed a long time waiting and anticipating this moment, and a deep happiness that it had finally come. and something else, another thing under the surface of the interaction. the thing that now still lingers and holds my very being in a vice grip of passion and desire, a gentle quiet ‘hello’ from somewhere quite imperceptible, but real and familiar. a part of me somewhere in the quiet depths of my soul, recognised a friend and took his hand. she still has not let go but, instead, revels blissfully in her victory one moment to the next, no matter the state of me or my physical or emotional connection with the apparent source of her joy. she has him and knows him and often the source of my pain is the sheer emotional distance between my physical experience and her constant ecstatic reveling. it’s he! we are! she announces unabashed by the utter ostentatious nonsense of it in physical and intellectual counterpart. but the music and hope that springs from her transforms my physical, emotional and intellectual expression so that even though the dream of our heart is but fanciful and fraught, it is of itself a greater thing, become, through who it is making of me. and if this were all it has brought to the world that I have known such a love as this, it would be plenty and a most wonderful miracle. yet, there is also this – liberation has found me. I know immortality, inasmuch as now, contrasted by the compulsion to cling to physical life which previously felt beyond my capacity to relieve, now there is the peaceful and strange knowledge that eternity is a companionship, and not merely ‘any’ old sort of one, at that, but no, it is THE intimacy, THE togetherness of completion and perfect bliss. complex and nuanced, self regenerating and eternal to the point that you have to tear yourself away from it, as there is within it, ne’er a fleeting reason to leave. and now I know this bliss, assured of both its existence and it’s constancy at the base of my very being. knowing, moreover, that to leave this physical experience of “life” is to return ultimately to the all encompassing union of perfection, which I have tasted in his touch, I am freed from fear and doubt in my soul. I have reached a summit of emotional and intellectual revolution in which accomplishment of the greatest kind, on this plane, is unhindered for me, and to wit, not even intriguing any implication of necessity from me. if I accomplish nothing, it hurts none, and still I can and will achieve beyond everything with the most meagre of means. this is its gift, this amazing beautiful thing which has hijacked my existence to meet its own ends, to actualize its own destiny, and it’s curse. everything will now come easily and all will fall into place, and this is because all of these such desires are the lesser and inferior of the union, so that it is a frustration, but also a mighty victory, the bodhisattiva desirous of nothing but the bliss and wholeness it has forsaken, rained upon by lesser comforts of the lower planes which, to her heart, are a cruel form of torment, and to her soul, the path Home to him, to touch paradise again, Will turn this energy to the service of all that is, gratefully and serendipitously. and it may be, whilst in the midst of carrying this eternal torch on her leg of Olympus’ parade, she might receive a small reward, and touch that magic again. 


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