Transition

Self-Portrait of Adultery (Part Five)

 

8.September.2015

Several times a day I hear you coaxing some people, me and yourself that everything is ok, we are fine…

I don’t know if we are fine, I’m not comfortable with the situation. I have the feeling that for two days now I really started to realize what happened. As if I was in a dream or trance previously.

You don’t speak and if it ever made sense now it seems it’s too late. You are so strange to me and I think I couldn’t open to you again even if you make an effort. And you don’t.

I don’t know, I don’t want to make decisions yet but I want to be away from you. I know it takes time. It’s already showing. I can’t have confidence in you anymore and without trusting you I can’t be with you. I can try for the kids or something like that. But as far I as know myself it wouldn’t work. I became very estranged.

– – – – – – – – –

Partnership is like a system of connected vessels; the more you act as if nothing had happened the more I dig in what happened. In order to reach a balance and give truth what’s due. The more you try to go above this, to turn your back and forget (do you really try?) the more I’m pushed by the law of balance to go down below and deeper in myself and the thing that broke my integrity. Till I reach the bottom. And be aware that there is no bottom, as vast and infinite is the expansion and rise up and above in space and universe as limitless is the descent down, sinking into the depths of one’s own soul, Psyche, of the experience. And they are both an expression of one and the same, and the one cannot exist without the other.

You and I are one and the same in a different way. Peculiar mirrors of the other part of the self, the one at the back side of the coin, the dark side of the moon. The thing we can’t see without the other person or just don’t want to. Is that what you are scared of? What you are afraid of and running from? Is that why you turn your eyes out towards the other woman, towards the thing you know you like and accept? To look into Her and see yourself recognized, respected, important? Desired and strong? Not to touch the unfamiliar, the rejected, the unaccepted? And not to face the possibility to find something that is ugly and is also woven in your being and is building and making you up despite its destructive power.

– – – – – – – – –

 

I’m always asking myself how the other people are dealing with such situations. What should be done?

…talking…

…talks, talks, and then again, until it all fades away…

Or everyone goes along his way; you even make sex and slowly get estranged.

Like us.

This person, you, is simply a stranger to me. And this is what I feel for you – almost nothing, just some pain from the event and desire to be far away but I don’t have the guts.

Perhaps in ten days’ time I’ll be travelling with the children…

 

 

 

I’m walking along the mountain path above our house soaked with dew. I’m panting with the weakness to cope with the displacement – of the place around me and the hill inside me. I stop to gain some power, noise and beauty. I swallow a piece of silence and its bliss settles in my thighs. My feet rooted in the wet earth below me.

I raise my eyes and then I saw him – wood guardian angel. I hold my breath to keep the vision but it only stays a moment immovable like porcelain and then turns his horns back to the earth. Very real, warm-blooded and unshakable in its splendor. Deer. Grace flows in my veins, scatters in my body and touches the tips of my fingers inside. I touch my lips with them and the caress of God warms up the numb drops of frozen joy in my life. My skin responds to the glamor and the magic of the awaken happiness whispers its spells to my hair roots. I shiver with the eternity that seized me, I froze in the moment of perfection that was given as a present, a piece of cherished integrity and give myself submissively to the longing for completeness and happiness.

The deer stayed a bit longer on the path, tossed his horns and slowly disappeared among the leaves of the late summer.

– – – – – – – – –

I took a breath and went back to my previous self, pool out my roots from the soft earth and carry my thoughts forward among the stems of the broad-leaved trees. In a moment the magic is back this time the guardian is a giant butterfly; it swirls the air around the skin of my hand and I shiver by the touch of pollen in her wings without even feeling the tickle of its elusive ease over me. Now I realize with all the pores of my skin and with every tissue of my body that I, the butterfly, the deer, the broad-leaved trees and the juicy roots and the thin dew and the heavy with moisture and steps earth and the warmth in my veins and the ease of my thoughts and presence… that we all are one and pulsate in the non-existing boundaries between us.

The butterfly rotates in perfect circles around my arm, though I’m not slowing down inspired by the feeling of elusive perfection in which I dwell. It flies with me for a while. Then it rises above the trees and the sadness of my memories. And I remain with the blissful awareness that from the place where I find myself now, everything is one and I am one with all and love is possible and pure and true. And everything else is small and loses strength and senses.

 

To be continued…

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