The million dollars question.
– I have to admit that in some weird way I am more interested in stories than men themselves. – As I am saying these words, and licking an ice cream I just made myself, my friend is giving me a bewildered look. – Let me clear it up. I am more interested in stories that certain men bring me, than a relationship with them. And they all come with stories, not by accident, and I write them down.
There must have been some constellation in the skies with my Venus in the center of attention along with Saturn, which is why I was starting to remember all my exes, going as far back as college, high school, elementary school, all the way to my first childhood crush. The first guy I’ve ever been in love with. He is that tall, dark, handsome and beautiful who set the bar for all the others that came after. It was a platonic relationship, obviously, as, by the time sex education was introduced, we both went our own separate ways, creating our own experiences. I hadn’t seen him for over twenty years. Until this moment. Somehow, I was expecting to run into him. I dreamed of him before I saw him. I have those precognitive dreams, the ability to know what’s going to happen in the future, which is something I’ve denied for a long time, before finally accepting it. Everyone has that, I am nothing special. And on top of it all, the first book I “accidentally” bought when I moved to my new home, was Reconnection, Eric Pearl. It feels so good to be reconnected.
The moment we saw each other again, we knew that the story from childhood was missing a piece. “I don’t know what’s the question, but sex is definitely the answer” – Woody Allen would say. You can hear all sorts of things from children, and often they ask various questions; my favourite “How do you know you love someone?” was directed at my mother. I was meant to be a philosopher, analysts and an explorer. Parents answer as best they can, based on their own experiences.
“Well, when you want to see someone all the time, be with him, when you long for him when you are apart, when he is your everyday need.”
For a long time I lived believing this to be the greatest definition of love. Everything we know is wrong. How wrong that is, it’s a definition of dependency and attachment. It has nothing to do with love. I’ve heard and read so many stupid things regarding love, as if there is some kind of conspiracy theory preventing us from ever learning what love actually is, because people are encouraged to look in others, in things, in media, on the internet, without ever looking into themselves where it has always resided. I went around the world looking for love that has been there all along. Patiently waiting for me to end my journey and come back home.
He isn’t at all afraid of me, that’s the most interesting thing, nor was he scared of a pack of dogs who once appeared before us as we were walking. He just gently pushed me behind him, standing still in front of the raging and curious bunch of strays. We modern Amazon women are, in fact, yearning for such a protector, though we can do things by ourselves, but sex is far more interesting when two people are involved, isn’t it? Although there is a woman standing behind every successful man, behind every successful woman there is usually no one. Except in my case, there are great disappointment and sorrow. He just cannot comprehend that I’ve got no one by my side, that whenever I needed to lean on someone, they all stepped away. Or that’s how it was supposed to be, since each mark was also a gift. Lovemarks, my first book speaks of that “when wounds heal, scars remain”. Sometimes it’s courageous to go deep inside yourself, believing in that which you retrieve from there…
I’ve stopped being a therapist for everyone, the one who leads the game, making everyone else around her happy. Vulnerable like this, I just can’t. In this natural environment I’ve learned to be friends with plants, animals, starry skies and people around me, not social networks so much. Riches that we have around us are nothing compared to the riches we have inside us. He, on the other hand, is an analog guy, rarely using a computer, doesn’t have a facebook or twitter, the only compromise is a cell phone, though he doesn’t always answer, his philosophy being whoever needs me will find me, whom I need, we find each other. Indeed, we spend so much of our time and energy proving our existence. When in fact we don’t need to do anything to be who we are.
Not trying to be cool is actually incredibly cool.
In all these years of my conscious sexual existence, I’ve never had sex like that, maybe because it wasn’t sex, it was more along the lines of when a man meets a woman… when things just perfectly fit, even though we don’t really know each other today, but rather recognize each other. I thought I would leave this world not having experienced such a thing. Everything about him was familiar, but sensations were new. Reconnection in true sense. That night, he completely erased my sorrow. And anger, and vulnerability. True, sex has a healing effect only if it’s in a cloud of love. There is no orgasm without surrender. No hidden catch, no strings attached, just free love…
Everyday need is actually everyday fear. And fear is never as vile as when posing as love. “To experience love, it’s not necessary for you to rid yourself of all your fears. You can take your fears into your arms and bring them with you into love. Because as soon as we step into love, fear reveals itself as the illusion it has always been – and what remains is only love.” (Eric Pearl, The Reconnection)
How do you know you love someone? – I hear my own question as an echo, so many years later. On the same steps which I’ve now redecorated, where I’ve put figures of Buddha. It’s a shocking display for the locals who need a little bit of time getting used to my installations. Love should be more important than the loved one.
In fact, we arrive into this world with a true knowledge, we know that we are right, it’s just that everybody afterwards teaches us that we are not. And only when we become right – the right one finds us. Back then I couldn’t explain it, but I am love. I can’t even explain it now, even though I wrote an entire book with that title.
But it feels good to be home, again.