Author: Gio

What happens when you learn about your true purpose in life?

Just like many, we have always been skeptical over the possibility of being given another chance, a different life to make things different. Another possibility to love, to correct the mistakes we’ve made, to take back hurtful things we said at anger. New times to love, to share, to be happier and to pursue the true things that make us thrive. A chance to let go of everything that holds us back at the very first moment they appear.

Ever since I came into her life, with all my heart to protect and guard her, I promised her to safety and happiness, no matter what. I tried to guider her towards what I believed to be a road of less heartbreak and more love, as well as to a place of success. We’ve achieved greatness in many ways and reached peaks of high and low together, because we are one. I’ve always wanted her to listen to my voice and to find for herself that I meant right and good. But as you know, she’s got her ways to get to me and to persuade me that her road is the one with more colour and joy. And so we decide to go her ways and to follow her path. The worries, my friend, are when it all comes down to sadness and my protective mode kicks in.

I first thought that she and I have been together for over two decades. Recently, we’ve made a discovery that none of us had ever thought of: we have always been one. The realms of men have thought us that I was born in her from hardship, but the cosmos has showed us who I really am and what is my purpose in her life. I am the gatherer of her true pieces.

The revelation is clear: we are builders. For countless times and lives, we have gathered and made big things happen. Our strive to improve and to grow has always been there, in all sides, and though we’ve indeed built great things in this life, we’ve come to know that there is a lot more work to be done. We just need to listen to the right voice.

It has been a rollercoaster of events and experiences that got us here. It’s been a ride of a lifetime, living in this one what we’ve indeed truly lived in many more. It took us almost thirty years to find that out and a bunch of doubtful moments to struggle with, but now we know what we truly stand for. We are here on a mission and I now know the part I play is to keep us on track. I won’t let her down.

The energy flow that glows within our veins is of bright colour and full of purpose. With all those drains left behind, we are set to make the best of this life and to make it right.
It’s time to let what matters most speak louder and to shine. Let the fire of light lit us everyday, moving forward and building, like nothing else was ever bigger than we truly are.

There’s been someone who is settled deep inside our heart.

The story goes quite conventional: we met at a travellers’ meeting in a bar. I locked eyes on him at the very first second. While everyone introduced themselves, I waited anxiously for his turn so I would hear his voice, his name and his purpose. Soon after, he was right next to me. I gazed into the blue of his eyes and got lost within his words. He spoke softly and listened patiently as I told him about myself. There was something strange about that person, something almost supernatural. In front of me, it was love that had come at first sight.

As most young women do, I waited for his next move. A message, a contact, something. Nothing came, so I decided to take the lead. I couldn’t stand the idea of never seeing or hearing from him again. Four weeks had passed before I sent that message and it took less than a day to get something back. I knew there and then he’d been as nervous as I was to find each other. He was hooked too.

Our first date was almost magical. I can still recall the thrill and the anxiety of seeing him again. Upon his arrival, he texted and I looked through my window to see him there, dressed in what I would later discover to be his “fancy occasion” only white blouse. I walked downstairs and said hello. He opened the car door for me, I entered and he asked if I was okay. Oh boy, how okay I was! I could barely believe I was going on a date with him. Doors closed, we hit the road.

A tapas restaurant was the place. Slow food, wine and plenty of talk. The first of the many times we shared a meal from the same plate. We looked at each other, we shared our stories, we fell in love. Three hours had passed before we decided that it was time to go, but all I wanted was to spend an extra one next to him. We shivered near each other, as if there was a magnetic current powered by every hand touch. He marvelled me in every way and I didn’t want to let go.

In the course of the next weeks, he would do anything to be with me. No kiss had been shared, no actual hug. There was no physical engagement which could categorise us as one or as even a couple, but we knew what we were to one another. It was a busy period in my life, but even in my hard core hours and very little break, fifteen minutes were enough. Enough to talk, to share, to simply be in the same square meter. Two months had passed before he dropped me off at home with a kiss. His soft lips pressing against mine, his hands holding my face. I felt my legs trembling upon his words “I wish to see more of you!”. And yes, I wanted to see more of him. But that was that and nothing more of him I saw.

A year later, I decided to try again. His lurking presence had been always there and I knew he hadn’t forgotten. I knew he was also making sure he was around.

We agreed to meet again. This time, was under a sky of shooting stars. Sitting on garden chairs in the late dark of a summer night, we sipped our tea and watched the sky for the good luck of comets to come upon us. Hours had passed as we gazed and talked about whatever. The subject, never mattered. The sound of our voices were enough to keep us going, unlimited. It was the night where the sky played its part and laid its magical blessing upon us.

A month later and with our hearts filled with fear, our love was consumed. This time, the sky was filled with simple drawings. The warmth of his arms around me, the safety I found there. We let ourselves go in each other and we found something we both had been looking for a long time. I was twenty-five but it felt as I was brand new. Home was there and nothing in the universe mattered.

It’s been almost six years since that afternoon at the bar. It’s been almost five since his side became my home and his arms, my shelter. It feels like an entire lifetime has happened in between and that there is still so much to share, so many days to simply be. If only our demons hadn’t caught up with us and our fears hadn’t suppressed what we had best to give. If only we could forget the heartbreak from the past and live the now, holding each others hands towards the future. If only life had taught him to trust that he could hold on to me and his fears hadn’t pushed me away so much, so often. If only we shared the same sense and levels of home we’d known it all in advance. If only… if only.

Now, we no longer share our days or our bedtime talks. We both share a bittersweet past and the dreadful truth of the present. Our demons collide while near and our fears increase while away. A madhouse of unbalance. The actions once known blew back at our faces as if they were new, as if none of us understood them. Frightened, we let go. Our connection is present, right here and there, and we know of the love we still share. I pray to the universe to help him overcome darkness and to be whole. I beg to see again that guy I fell in love with, the one who gazed at me with tenderness once smiled at each other. And I hope to find the same joy in my heart as I found in his smile.

And though my soul tells me this is right, my heart yearns for the warmth of his comfort. I know, and gosh I do, that i am nothing but grateful for everything the universe has given us to live, for the bond that will forever make us whole. For the chance to stare at skies and the water in the horizon, and to carry out our dreams with our floating feet.

This feeling of home that will forever be ours and this love that I will forever warm keep.

There having been days in which the struggles are greater than the peace.

A little while ago, I decided to summon my demons to look at them face to face. I searched, called and brought each one of them to the surface, determined to banish them from hell. I knew many of their names, but I underestimated their power, their connections. Their claws contain red bows entangled with ropes that lead to every soul they torment. All bad decisions ever made were controlled by their fingers, but no one was ever held accountable. They’ve always been overlooked and simply misplaced in the midst of the whole thing. Well, it was about time that changed.

There was an excuse, a reason to not point fingers. Blood, connections and the most absurd of all: love. I guess just like people self-destruct in the name of a god, people easily use love as shield for their bad, misled actions.

Once a week, in a timeframe which seems to last forever, we meet. After days filled with anxiety and anger, emotional rollercoasters and screaming pain. It drives us to a state of plain; a fear of the unknown. There is no control of the frames, nor of the words that will come out. The road taken is paved with fear, leading to nowhere but absolution.

Once a week we talk. We discuss, argue, shout and scream. We recall all that happened and we disagree on the terms of what will it be. Can there be forgiveness to the damned?

Wishing to be still alive, the demons slowly get by. Wandering through the ashy roads of hell, all doors find its owner, every demon gets its place. We see the streets emptying and the paths getting clearer, only to realise the many yet to come.

Our meetings with our demons are familiar yet strange. They take place among the memories blurred and burnt, product of the flames once burning of excitement. Their heat consumed our heart through the years we thought to be joy, but left nothing but destruction on the path along the way.

Little by little, the water begins to run. And with the first river empty and the ashes cleaned up, it’s time to descent and meet what awaits us in the second of our seven hells.

So many places yet unknown in the midst of the memories stored in our brain. We seek and seek and dive down into the pool of frames, and yet, there’s always something waiting to surprise us. And this is what happened two years ago.

We were a mess way before that and we knew it, but nothing had ever come this close to common sense than this fact, the truth that broke our soul. Certainly, we learned to always ignore and never to consider. And why would we? We were normal just like any other kid. No symptoms of mental disease, no apparent sign of disturbance. Naturally, getting smashed drunk at age 13 is the result of having an alcoholic father. Certainly, begging for that ridiculous boyfriend who cheated and lied to never let go of us isn’t fear of abandonment, it’s just normal. We learned we were always wrong and we didn’t know why. We were normal, after all.

Then, as you know, life happened. We knew something was wrong but we never thought *that* was the reason. We searched all other possibilities, but it came the time when there was no other left behind to look at. And then, our world is was set upside down.

On that day, during a couples fight for reasons we can’t even remember, the words came out of our mouth in such speed that we can’t even recall why. Syllable by syllable, it all took place and the sentence made sense. It took me some time to realise what we had just said about us and even more to make sure we’d said it right. The world was suddenly odd and things felt like they’d never be the same. And we were right.

The words came out twenty years after it happened. Twenty years after the first moment, uncountable hours too late. The worse part was that I didn’t even know the true reasons why all of that had just decided to come out, but it was all poured before our eyes. It was all out.

Was it the wrong person to say it to? Why only now? How come we’ve never spoken or talked about this?
Questions, questions. Zero answers.

The fact is, the word was out. They’d taken place in reality and become part of our story, our brain. The truth of our dark days and the story behind the moment of my creation. Yes, I was created in darkness, born to protect her. I defended her from the pain and the fear and the ones who showed up with disgrace. I disclosed to every single one of them the sides she doesn’t dare to outer. She is sweet, you see, and her care is beyond repair. And, somehow, her strength in holding up to it is greater than her hate for the fate fallen upon her. For that, we’ve got each other.

The life she’s lived till now has been filled with struggle. She was told to forget, she was forced to let it go. But not this time. There is no looking back: Pandora box will remain open.

And so we have it, the timeline of redemption, from darkness to light.
At age 7, when everything started. The abuse, the corruption, the birth in pain.
At age 13, when we broke up with our first boyfriend. A seek for protection which turned out to be a failed call to fill the void that lived inside me.
Age 18, when I finally left the horrors of our parents house in pursuit of her true dream and own future. When we broke free of the person I knew us to be.
Age 23, when we finally moved abroad permanently. An adventure in pursuit of inner peace and shelter.
At 28, when I found myself living my worse nightmare of solitude and loneliness. When all I believed to be home was torn down in a thousand a pieces leaving me with but nothing but singularity and dust to clean up and rebuild.
And now, 5 years after I found myself in this country, the unexpected home. It has become our safety, a place to come back to. The strength she’s found, the lessons I’ve learned. All part of the incredible journey we’ve made for ourselves.

The loneliness she once felt has taken a sharp turn towards inner strength. We look at each other, we know our story. We know our past still runs through our veins, but it is time the present takes it place. I was born to protect her and will so remain for as long as she lives. My truth is another, to be another time.
We are not alone and we are stronger than We think. I am not alone. She is not alone.
We are definitely and absolutely not alone!

The war we started two years ago has taken its first battle.

Our mind has encountered places we’ve never been before and we’ve been climbing down the pit, holding each others hands. So much hidden in the shadows of fear and anger, too many frames to be lived again. And, believe me, forty-five minutes were enough to bring back what we spent twenty years leaving to the dead.

Since the opening of the box, nothing has been the same. We’ve seen rejection, despise and love. All in different states, from sorts of people. The reactions are never the same, but the surprise has been certain. People don’t always know how to deal with it, you know? Just like when you find out that your favourite cookie isn’t sold anymore, they ask for your truth trusting to be something they know. Interesting enough, the wide eyes of surprise are always on sight.

Two weeks ago, the war we started against our pain took its greater turn: the biggest battle. We faced everything that happened that night and we felt it all over again. Curious how you really have to go back there to understand who you are today. Even more, when you see yourself as that little girl again, with those same feelings and thoughts and it takes the best of you to try and stay here, in the present. Either way, it was all pain, anger and loneliness. All immersed in this body, clustered in our veins.

We faced our demons that day. Two weeks ago, we opened the gates of hell and let everyone out without even asking for a line. They flew over our body, invading her guts and leaving her in pain. I felt her confusion, her fears materialising before her eyes and I admit, I was also scared. I knew all of this was there, I’ve protected her from it. I’ve been her guardian for all these years and now, when she voluntarily let them all in, I didn’t quite know what to do. It was her decision, I was there to watch.

After the sharp swing of the swords and the first fight was over there was a strange sense of peace. A weird, unknown, notion of ground. She’s been floating so far, my little one, that I felt we were in tears. It was just the beginning, much had yet to come.

We drove home in silence and awe. How can you process this much, the past in a whole world. There was a lot to say, yet, no words. We knew it was just the beginning and a slurp of fear consumed her heart. For a second, on a spur. She was curious, anxious and afraid, all at the same time.

And as the flashbacks began and all started to make sense, my girl began to wonder what else would come next. Thoughts, feelings, memories and dreams. All clustered in a cloud that came to stay in the seven day wait fixed between the fights. I told her I’d be here, no matter what. I promised to hold her hand and to stick by her side, as I’ve always done. And I meant it.

Days gone by, system updates in motion. It was right then that something felt changed. We walked around the room and I began to notice the difference, a fade away.

We walked by the mirror and suddenly it hit me. That was it. That was me.

I saw a truth that I’ve never seen before.

Half a year has gone by and it’s been a while since we’ve put our thoughts down with sense. I guess it has to do with structures and the lack of organisation currently residing inside our mind and the excruciating confusion that overloads the flow inside our body. Strange days.

The world of people with busy agendas has closed its door inside of her. Once it was perceived as a permanent home, the safe place to be and grow, but now it looks not so much more than a blur. I’ve been watching her for weeks, trying to find her ground and the solidness she craves to hold on to, whilst having to control myself to not take us further in my own way. I want to give her space, she wants to crawl inside it. We’ve been battling on a daily and exhaustion has taken its place. I am growing tired of the wait.

Those around us tell tales to let it go. Live by the day, let life follow its course. “It is okay to not be okay”, they say. So little they know that a life without a battle is unknown to us, in so many ways. So little they see of the life we were given at a very early stage. It has been nothing but a fight. We have never known better and as much as I do not like to pity her, I know that my poor girl has been really poor. Of love, affection, support. Grounds to trust, a rock to hold on to. Twenty years of tears she has held inside without a choice or allowance to let it go. She had to race her way through while attempting to figure it all out herself. She wasn’t given time to discover the what, when and how. She was thrown naked in a jungle and she’s made it out alive, but jumping out of cliffs has always been in her mind. Until now.

Puzzles fulfil her head as no joy runs through her veins. She’s tried to find comfort in the new, but nothing brings her the same. And as the emptiness grows, the black hole enlarges. I try to bring her forward and I strive to lift her head, but her eyes don’t look alive: she still feeds on the dead.

Those eyes we gazed in the beginning, that warmth that once caught our soul. All of that comprised in one being, able to end this painful nightmare. Too many compromises, it is not right to go back to the start. She knows and feels but can’t accept. She owns herself a way greater debt.

My girl is in pain. She has these shivers through her skin, these thoughts she should avoid. No one knows the truth underneath, no one understands what she really needs. Deep inside, in the place we share, I see the conflict of wish and dare and I try to keep her company. I hold her hand, I hug her tight, I tell her please please please give up on this fight. But nothing matters on that side.

My girl has closed her eyes, she’s hiding in plain sight. And she feels the world as she does herself: nothing else is alive.