I didn't know souls could weep. Maybe that's why we choose to be physical. So our sadness can be seen, acknowledged. There's no point in having a finely tuned instrument without a virtuoso to play it. Without those knowing, nimble fingers, it is only used and abused. Desired. But never truly appreciated. That only happens once in a lifetime.
The install of the second needle hurt my heart. It opened feelings of longing and despair. Then, you were there. Holding my right hand. She held my left. But there was no one there to hold my heart....
There is a secret gate in Jerusalem called "the eye of the needle." It's so secret, no one knows where it is. But we all walk through that gate at some point. I hope to find it very soon. Even a needle has no point anymore. Like this body. Everything is dull. Yet I now see the world as sharper, more painful. Irony has a stranglehold on me, in the same way your curse holds you. Across the neck. And, at the crotch.
Maybe when I pass through the eye of the needle, it will all make sense.
People who say they are broken don't know what broken really means. Because, when you are truly broken, you cease to exist. There is nothing left. No bones to break. No blood to draw. You are living pain. It feels eternal in this limited body. But I know too many ghosts. The pain does not go away with the body. We carry it with us. The only way to make the pain end is by confronting that which caused it.
I have tried...but I'm so tired now. I'm tired, and very, very sad. My grief is a never-ending font, feeding a stream that leads to a river that leads to an ocean. Our ocean. She said you had lies in your heart, even then. Did you? Secrets are not the same as lies. We still have secrets. One of mine is that my mother is the sea. I am alien, for I have two mothers. Yours, and mine. Two-and-two is four. Fire and water and air and earth are the four elements of my soul. All four elements reach out in four directions. I was your number four. You, my six. Even there, our souls found their right place, at the right time.
Emma means "mother" in the language of the angels. Her name was made up of letters from nine mothers. Nine is the number assigned to my Destiny. You have the same one. Together, we make 18. And, 18 equals life. A chai. Our Destiny is to live. To create life. To shine life on the world. Heal, not hinder. But...how can I heal without your hand in mine?
What is an eleven without two-ones??? It is a lonely number. The loneliest. No matter how infinite the numbers that follow, one is always alone. Unless it finds another one. That is why 11:11 means #TwinFlames. We are each joined together, then, reflect back the blessed union of our souls.
You are always here. Always close. But not close enough to touch.
One day, we will sit together in front of a fire in a log cabin and you will ask me when I knew that everything would be okay. My answer will be, "Never...even now, it feels like a dream."