The Broken Spell

Making me the protagonist of His dream, in His world, the queen, for as long as it suited His idea of how He wanted His dream to be. Pulling me all back in whenever I felt on edge, not wanting to let me go. „Babe I will never let you go. You are the one for me, I will take care of you. I want to take care of our children. If you ever try to run away, I will not let you. TRUST ME. You mean everything to me. I will not ever let anything happen to us. I will come after you wherever you go. This is it.”

The words that we all wish to hear no matter how dangerous, flowing out of him as if it was a daily thing to say to anyone we meet, before even getting to know each other with all that we are. 

All these words remaining the same throughout whatever happened, every fight, break, all the tears cried. Even AFTER having endless conversations about what words can do to another person’s heart and soul. How powerful they are, sharp as sword in the wrong hands functioning  as a weapon. Cutting deep. Deep into the wounds that I’ve already worn. A genius in his field he used them like a magician blinding himself with them; my longing fragile soul wanting to believe them to be true. 

You are like my twin flame by the intense calmness that you bless me with. […] let's walk the path your heart flows just in synch with my heart.

My wise woman.

You are one its kind

So Divine and beautiful.

For my courage may the universe bless your eyes, they made me trust me. 

Lina, if millions loved you than I am one of them, and even if only one loved you, than it was me and if no one loved you than know that I am dead. 

You’re magic. You’re my Angel. 

The union of divine manifesting yet again like ever with me and you. 

Let's build , explore and experience  as two kids with deeper echo of our existence

Yet the purity and the realness stays. 

In my first attempt of opening his eyes to lift the clouds, creating clarity, he surrendered. Understood. Wanted it to be real. I thought. A real chance for love. For the love I dream of. A love that we live for a lifetime. 

Lina thank you so much. 

As you were saying I was seeing your realisations being the truth', I sense how my illusions take away so much cause you know these illusions were my coping mechanism to what i often defined as the absurdity but was just my shadows and demons.

I wanna do justice to the  authenticity of who I really am and not been layered anymore with conditioning of my coping mechanisms, fears, anxieties, the forcefully buried darked sides and  to do justice to what you really radiants to me through the patience, compassion, wisdom, knowledge, insights, experience and understandings that you unconditionally giving me. 

I can't think of any other way than to knock them down and make myself vulnerable to my own unaddressed and buried states. 

Justice to who I really am. If he had only known who he truly is. 

Quoting endless poems:

“Perhaps we can ask each other more questions. Real questions. The kind that connect us. Perhaps we can encounter each other from a place of honest inquiry and genuine curiosity - not assumption, not psychoanalytic categorization, not the egoic need to judge. Real inquiry. Here I am. Here you are. Curious about each other. Wondering how we got here. Allowing time to hear each other’s stories. And to really listen. To get to know. To wonder. Inquiry changes everything.”

That’s me and you. He says. 

Divine, divine feminine energy, sacred, with grace, realness, humbleness, justice …on and on and on. All I ever needed to hear. 

„My wise woman“. I hear him say every day. Not feeling any of his words baring fruits. His „wise woman“, not wise enough to be listened to as he’s suggested in all his never ending wishful words, but instead breaking every promise he’s ever made to her. Not having no question for her or any interest in listening to her whenever she tried to speak, wanted to share her story or her knowledge about who she is or what she needs. 

His words only resonating inside of him to keep His own dream world alive, disconnected from who I am. Who I truly, authentically am. I want to come and get to know you with all that you are. Love without conditions, not to be lived after all. I was too much. Too much for him. Not protected by Him but dismissed for I could not live up to His world as I wasn’t the Angel he wanted to make me. Wanted me to be. Sorted out, not fitting into the frame he’s already arranged for me. 

Absentminded he keeps painting a picture of me, not listening, not hearing my cries, my screams growing louder each day from desperation to be heard. 

Far away from any awareness of what they would do to my heart or soul. No care, no empathy, no responsibility for how much they could destroy, taking them from me in reality. Destructive to the core taking all trust in love, destroying the dream in the blink of an eye, leaving me hopelessly devastated. 

A boy, taking a leap of faith on love instead of taking it seriously, as sacred, lacking the maturity of facing himself, evaluating his thoughts, words and actions, observe them, before claiming that they’re reality in humbleness and respect to the human being he’s been putting them on. 

Every word remaining empty in the end. LoveBombing instead of maturely letting the love, the intimacy grow, let the fruits ripen until they’re ready to be picked. He keeps splashing like a waterfall empty words of promises, cherishing, trying to make me trust, believe, merge with him into his dream world, only to make them a lie himself, only to close the doors when the first storm arrives. 

Being pushed off the cliff when the first dark clouds cross the sky above the castle of delusional love. Love that didn’t make it through to reality but was bound from the first moment to the condition of being a fairy tale, causing the biggest disappointment when shown its real face, not surviving a moment in the light if truth. Leaving a vast void, having me pushed off the throne when I don’t function as he’s mused about in his wildest dreams. 

Promises broken, hearts left hopeless, I don’t hear him apologizing, for taking a life, understanding the responsibility of his own thoughts, words and actions, just turning his back on the play. Still left in the dark with the broken promises unconsidered in what they may have done to my heart. 

 

Did you not care what scars these words would leave behind in my soul. Old scars, familiar ones, deepened with every experience. 

For the sake of hearing them out of your mouth, for the sake of making yourself believe the truth of them no matter what. No matter how deep they would cut me when you would break them at the first chance, leaving me behind. 

My little child. Left. Again. As she knows it all too well. That poor little girl. All her crying didn’t help. She wasn’t listened to. Again. 

I see myself sitting on the balcony. For hours and days. Trying to make sense. Swinging between the worlds. Wanting this love to be real when my intuition is waving the flags. They’re red. I know them. I’ve seen them before. Too big is my wish, my longing for it to be true. I want this love to be real. To be loved for who I am, not finding myself again  in a world that I know all too well. That I have been knowing all along, I want to deny it. Too big is the hurt after all these years, having stepped into the same trap, not wanting to feel the same pain. 

Now it’s undeniable. I cannot avoid it anymore. I had to walk away. With a broken heart. Again. 

A conversation a few days ago promising to bring us back together, on the same page, connection, the same notions, the same game. You cut yourself off me. 

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Not again. I deserve better. Someone who loves me for who I am genuinely with all his heart, not creating an illusion, making me the center of the illusion just to drop me when I don’t fulfill the role as pictured in their dream. A child just shutting the door when he’s tired of playing. 

I wish there was someone to blame and even more I wish it was you. It would make it so easy to hate you, to let go of you. But I don’t hate you. I feel you. I understand you. And I am sorry I wasn’t the one that you loved the way you suggested it. The way you wanted to. There was no connection from the beginning. Only the wish for one. It hurts. Not being the one. Again. I still love you. 

I had the responsibility for my own dreams, sinking into yours. A 34 year old woman wanting to believe in your dreams, making hers come true. Too arrogant of her own wisdom to see through the play. Too romantic to give up on her heart when this encounter could not stand a chance from the beginning. 

Let go. She says. Tears rolling down my face. She’s right. 

Swimming in the bath of my tears I do not wanna miss a single second of our time together. Precious as it was, my biggest teacher to understand what kind of person I want to share my love with and what kind of love and support I want to feel in this world. True, genuine love, authentically lived. Reliable and mature. A love that has substance and is not build on the pillars of empty words and an idea that has nothing to do with me. Because that’s that kind of love I deserve, the love I carry in my heart. 

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In my pain the universe sending me mirrors. Always the ones I need. Picture perfect. My desires. My dreams to be tested again, right away as I’ve walked down the same path so many times. Empathy. Compassion. Understanding. Love and light. Support. All I need. 

“You are important Lina. Also, loving happens when you reveal your layers..And you did! And that is beautiful. If your authenticity scares someone away, it is ok. You are powerful Lina, and so is your rawness, your authenticity.”

Do you want to grow with someone Lina or babysit? It hurts. I know. It’s the truth. 

I sit under a tree, drinking, introspection. I feel gratitude for our time. Connected to the energies of the people who love me so much, holding space for me. Gratitude. 

Feeling my heart filled with love I look up. “Hey what a peaceful place, what are you doing here?” A friendly face is smiling at me. He’s holding a camera. We’ll spend sunset together. The universe has answered my call. While he’s taking pictures of me, I remember our first evening together when you did not take pictures of me in the sunset. 

Life is good. The universe is with me. I wish I’d been THE ONE.