Brunch today was a test. I wanted to see how I would feel in your presence. Was the levity, the laughter I made at the devastation you did to me, true? (I was just as surprised as you.) Had I forgiven myself? (I have.) You? (As much I would like to hold a grudge, I do not.) Did I still taste the bitterness? (Barely a touch a sadness truth be told.) Was there still affection? (A familiarity, but not an affection I could define.) Could I be pulled back under your spell? (Apparently not.)
I was curious. I have observed that one takes on the characteristics of certain individuals of strength in one's life. In the past year, I have noticed a ghost of you inside me. As part of me. Integrated. (We did have one of the deepest connections I have had with anyone, part of what entangled me to you so long.) I could not help to wonder, what aspects of me you might have integrated into your self?
It was nothing so much as self-reflection, or commitment or getting over your fear of death. But the purple streaks in your hair did amuse me. I am glad you finally had the courage to do that. (Does that mean you have the courage for other things?) Not that it matters. It really doesn't. I am as much a composite of my past lovers, as my lovers have integrated aspects of the Vescent.
The answers to my questions, yes, I got them. No longer am I under your spell. Yes, I have forgiven myself. And you. (Although I suspect you have not forgiven yourself. It seems not.) You looked with terror, as I laughed at what you put me through. What I allowed myself to get caught up in. I understand your confusion. I admit, I do delight in torturing you so with the echoes of what occurred, but I am not the first, nor likely the latest who has tasted... this experience. I know you never meant to hurt me, or the other women you certainly did. But you didn't learn. If there was any part of me that integrated it into you, this was the one aspect I wished for. But why bother to expect. I do not expect it. You do not strive for self-awareness or enlightenment. Bodhisattva you are not.
It's ok.
I am grateful. For this lesson (that I cling to so that I never forget, the edge of the pain in which I paid so dearly - yes, deep down there is still that coin). In that, perhaps I will not forget you. At least not for some time. (Isn't that what you wanted?) You are the baseline upon which others are compared. Is this one like him? When do I walk away? Or perhaps, I will give it all up. Forget the memory, the lesson, give it to the sands, upon which the ocean constantly washes, to be truly unfettered by the aspect.
I have internalized and neutralized the bitterness. Like the poison a Reverend Mother might drink. The part of you, that became part of me, is me. I am free again.
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