I knew I wasn’t getting any work done today until I wrote this.

I’ve been exploring some interesting (even for me) styles of writing recently, and to be honest, I question the possibility for understanding and resonance with others in that style. It’s strange but, I can’t describe why it feels right. I’d say it’s almost like a practice in allowing something greater than me, to flow right through me, unfiltered. Equal to the uncertainty of the value of its worth, is the faith that it’ll reach just one person, and that fact alone is enough to continue to do it.

But, last night. I reached a door to something new for me. A new style that, I think could potentially be very healing for me. It’s nothing special, at least on the surface. Narration, and in this instance, of how a past love came to be.

I knew I wasn’t getting anything done today until I got this on virtual paper, and so, here it goes.

~~

She walked with something I hadn’t seen before. In a way that suggested she’d been through something I couldn’t understand. Curiosity. An immediate lust to understand why this person showed such a hollowness unknowing. She strolled, as though wandering but, I would later come to find she was the definition of focus in all areas in which it applied. She had a darkness. The color of her hair and her arms wrapped around her, face down, keeping whatever she was hiding for herself.

She was the kind of girl I’d see and think, “There’s just no way. Not me.” She was the kind of girl that doesn’t choose guys like me. The second time she came back around, a light began to shine through that dark tunnel inside of me that had been empty for so long. A year of suffering in willful joy racing mountain bikes hadn’t left much space for anyone to show up. But, things were changing, and sure as hell they were.

I couldn’t believe it. This beauty. This joyous, joyful soul. Who’d been pained to see her life go in a way in which no amount of will and focus could direct. I’ll save the details out of respect for a love we once shared but only had the courage to barely utter a number I could hardly count.

I’ve had the unique human experience of…seeing another human come back to feeling, to emotion. When we met, a lifetime of refusal of our emotional nature. Family, community, love and life now brought her to this Being unafraid and unwilling to Be anything but an expression of the emotions of this moment. It’s when we met but only a great time later did she tell me, “You were exactly what I needed.”

If anything, it was like the Universe was singing its own song. How could she say something like that and be only one half of the equation? No, it wasn’t possible. Looking back from the outside now, I don’t question it but only wonder if this life or another would have allowed it to be as one of us so seemed to desire.

How foolish of me, to think my own will, my own desires could rewrite the narrative unfolding right before me.

I’m struck with images of the just…life…we shared together. A blip on the universal timeline, not even a spark in the grand fire that is our humanity. The first smile I remember, one that came from her soul…was on a bike. We had just shared a picnic, and the first kiss. As I sit here and write, I realize now I had maybe been only the second first kiss she’d ever had, or at least for someone like her, on the tail end of a marriage ending on her own accord.

What strength. To decide against everything she’d ever known, and been told to be. I’ll never forget that sunglassy-smile. Single strands of hair blowing in a way only they could, dancing in front of her face as to show the joy and presence she had now found with someone long-traveling to meet her.

When you’re in the moment, you’d never guess a year and half could go by and then end up right where you began. Alone, but having lived and loved. A ride you’d hoped never ends but so glad a price to have paid.

We had once said, “I can’t imagine life without you,” in the least-most romantic way. Maybe what we really were saying was, “I’m happy you’re here, in this moment, and that’s all I care about for now.”

This person, this mystery from the frigid farmlands of our north. She’s the first person I’ve ever been called to write about. And as I sit, here in this new world for myself that I’ve so bravely created, I still find myself with an infection in my soul and in my heart that seems to not want to go.

They say we’ll have 3 great loves in life, and this must be it. This must be the pain and process we go through to reach the hope that leads us to the one we all hope to find. As I reach a depth of my Self in writing, here, connected to the keys as a piano in my eyes pushes me to listen deeply…

What a ride.

I’ll never forget that walk, as she walked into…and out of…my life. She showed me that someone could accept me for who I was, even when I was sure that someone wouldn’t. Even when I was sure, that I couldn’t.