(Self-Portrait of Adultery) – Part Two
It is a full moon. I’m raging inside; the tidal waves are so overwhelming that I can’t stop their devastating force. I attribute this to the phase of the moon cycles. For years I’ve been witnessing this dependence within me. Unaccepted, unconscious, deeply rejected and precisely because of this so terribly implacable. I can’t stop the sticky stench that’s pouring from my mouth against the indifferent man standing in front of me. My man, whose wife I am no longer, for he has devoted his thoughts to another woman. I am a Goddess. And the Only one. I have to be the Only one.
My face is pale yellow glassy moon ball bursting with anger and loathing. My hearth is clattering by the waves of the Varna tide rising from the depths of my raving wild feminine nature between my thighs. The wet heavy insults bursting from my mouth are splashing on the balcony and wipe out the slight efforts for reconciliation unconvincingly mumbled by the slug in front of me. Slubberdegullion. I can’t even think of a word offensive enough to express the sacred anger which yields my destructive rush. I have no love within me. And yet deep inside I know that this IS love. Wild, pathological, requiring violated love. One which could not stand lies and twists and turns; not the biblical one, but hot and burning female love with all the meanness which a hurt woman is capable of at Full moon.
If the balance lies within the interrelation of Yin and Yang
then I’m only Yin. If it is day and night I’m the Night; if it is the Sun and Moon then precisely at this moment I’m the Moon in its fullness. Cheated, refuted, disregarded. And if I believe that I had given too much and in return, I got THIS, if I believe that light brings life – then at this moment my faith is dead and I died for you, for our love and myself.
I’m so cold from the grief of this irreversible awareness that I know with my irrational self, the one beyond reason and any experience that my female body could no longer give life. My womb is ill just as my heart is a womb without soul and warmth inside because what happened tore my soul and what was inside is now outside wound in dreadlocks in the mud under my feet. I’m empty and cold, deprived of emotion. Maybe it’s temporary protection, maybe in a few moons, I could love you again tenderly and enjoy our children spontaneously. But I know my womb is dry for you and will no longer be source and beginning from you through me. And this is the way things are. One thing follows another.
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Now I need to see things from above,
not from the place I am right now. You cheated on me. Not physically (did you not actually?) but in any other possible way. You managed to deceive me long enough, but finally, I understood not in a quite dignified manner that you were having a relation, writing and calling each other…You really fell deeply in love, you said you feel like she is your soul mate and this is something from above, something cosmic, stronger than you….It became ugly, she understood that I knew, she even allowed herself to write and explain things to me…and you have discussed me previously – my jealousy, my pettiness, the spiritual poverty of my (un)awareness.
It hurt me so much and still hurts a lot. I’m trying to find power and motivation, a personal one, not for the children and practicality to stay together. But besides the emotion I still have for you it seems I can’t find anything stronger. I don’t want to part but it is unbearably painful to constantly think how you cheated me and this will probably happen in the future. It is insulting and ugly, I feel betrayed, crushed, humiliated. I don’t understand WHY? I need a few words from you – like a friend or even a confessor because I really appreciate the wisdom and inner power and confidence that you have and I would like to have but I don’t.
– – – – – – – – –
You don’t say a word.
– – – – – – – – –
I’m going to pray for us. Though I almost made up my mind that we should part. We have had hard times before as you know. But this time something very fundamental collapsed. I lost faith in you. I don‘t believe you for anything I started to suspect, to sneak, to expect you to lie to me again. For Her you’ve been lying to me for weeks and when I found out you said ” That’s the end, it’s over, I’m done and there is nothing anymore“ – you lied to me again…And then it happened two or three more times. And now I know this is the way you are, you lie. I’m not sure if I can live with this. What a family could be built if it’s grounded on a lie?
Dis-Trust…and the jealousy that just seized me it’s not natural to live like this. A nightmare for both of us. I wonder how many women there have been before Her and how many will there be ahead if we stay together. Man, you say is simply a polygamous being, he charges himself this way. I don’t know if I have the strength within me to accept this polygamy. This is ruining me, what kind of life would we live, I have no capacity. Tomorrow I will leave for a few days with the kids I want to distance myself and try to make a decision.
And probably it’s not that you don’t praise me, it’s just that you praise others together with me, more than me. You think that I’m narrow-minded and I have to open my mind because it comes to love. I don’t know maybe you are right, my jealousy and anger are definitely not an act of love. And what you do, what is inside you is it love?
It’s late afternoon already, we should leave. All-day long we’ve been preparing our luggage, arranging, packing, loading and I feel this vague tension that something is happening, something beyond the visible. I can’t explain it. We are at the finish line, in ten minutes we should leave, a long way is waiting for us and the day is dying. You are going out with the last baggage. And then what follows is stronger than me, than my will and my beliefs; my moral code is smashed and thrown in the corner of the water closet so that it does not prevent my impulse to do what will follow. I feel no guilt, only a paradoxical sense of Deja vu, I see my grandmother who is searching through the personal belongings of my mother finds letters, intimate ones, reads, tears, disregards and bans imposes principles and /im/possible outcomes.
I shift the image effortlessly from my mind
and sit on the toilet without any need, with a phone in hand. I have a flash, I don’t know how these things happen, and suddenly I remember the password for your email, password, which you shared with me more than six years ago, at the time when only pure love was between us. I enter the characters and see the rotating ring on the display. It’s hard for me to deal with such tension; I’m shaking visibly on the toilet my feet got used to the temperature of the tiles, my heart as well. From the noise in my ears, I realize that it’s still working. Your mail opens and suddenly everything is in front of me, everything you are without me, beyond me, in spite of me.
At this moment you enter in, your true self, warm, real sunny and smiling the way I know you, the way everybody knows you. You are going to do something for the last time, I don’t even hear what and we leave. Ok, I smile as far as I can, you go out closing the door. Then I see you whole, actual real and alive in another way. Not mine. I see dozens of letters that I never received probably because you have written them for Her. I see your desire, your longing I never felt – because you have kept it for Her. A sexual force and impulse I don’t know – you have concealed them for someone else, for Her. I see your aspirations; the thrill, the uttered desires, the shared words. And none of this is for me. I’m just a good mother to your children.
Then I died. For you, for us, for myself,
for my children, for my belief and dreams related to us. My body is cold. I lost sense of the telephone in my hands; I lost sense of my body weight, gravitation, the pulsation within me. Time detached from space and everything lost sense, in this non-existing moment I also stopped existing. As if I have always known that this will happen and it turned out I’m so unprepared. I didn’t want to cry, I couldn’t shout I had no power to stand up and go out. Instead, I just smiled and stayed there until the time turns back its course.
I don’t know how long I waited; I don’t know what and how much I read. Life started flowing again when you came back and the words I read, the pictures I saw they stayed forever carved in my mind and my flesh. And each time I touch them the pain is physical, festering wound no one has taken care of. At this moment in this bathroom, I knew I have received as much as I deserve. Nothing.
To be continued…