The first moment I met you, your hair was long. At a glance, your stature was all encompassing…I knew there was something more to you.
At the time, I was stuck in my own self-manifested, self-imposed nightmarish hell of which I could not awaken myself from. You were sent to me…you were sent to protect me and to guide me…even though, at the time, to me, you were just some handsome stranger.
I knew I could protect myself. I was alive wasn’t I?
I knew I could guide myself…well, at least I had been guiding myself. Right direction or wrong, I was on a path…my path; or so I initially thought.
So, a handsome stranger. Quiet strength. Steady wisdom. I found myself looking forward to your arrivals…they were more than visits to me. Even while still a caged bird, I awaited your hands to unclasp the little door upon each visit…granting me the sanity of freedom in moments. You were not my lover, nor were you my friend; just a handsome man riding on a wave of strength and peace. You listened. Even at my least sane, broken-down, hopeless mental states…you just listened with few verbal judgements. This, I knew, was strength and self-control at its finest, for even I knew: there was much to judge.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. What doesn’t kill you makes you wiser. What doesn’t kill you makes your inner light shine brighter. What doesn’t kill you sometimes leads you to your purpose and where you belong next. Proper construction requires proper deconstruction. And I was thoroughly deconstructed in my personal hell.
I had almost died on several occasions…the reaper and I were on a first name basis at the point at which you entered my “stage left” (life).
“The head that causes the problem, can’t solve the problem…alone”, you quoted Einstein to me over and over. Pounding sanity back into my undefined skull.
You were not my watcher, you were/are my teacher. My instructor of “level flight”.
You pointed out my strengths, the compliments stung. You pointed out my weaknesses, and offered me solutions I couldn’t discredit or refuse. It makes me smile when I think of the transitions made: the transitions of self, of us, life, perspective, reality, etc. And those were the first moments I met you…at my worst. You were not my “type”…yet you are exactly my type.
As time evolved and situations changed, I met more of you in new moments. Personal moments. Raw moments. We connected.
After I was granted freedom from my “situation” and moved locations so my “situation” could not find me…my pull to you increased. I met you in a new moment. I dug into you…i dove into you…I picked you apart and systematically put you back together. My opinions of you changed and strengthened simultaneously.
I never met a member of the male gender quite like you. I wished and verbalized to you that “I wish I had met you under different circumstances”.
My time with you was sporadic yet my personal growth was exponential. I looked forward to the moments I was able to spend with you.
Then my feelings for you intensified. I found myself fantasizing about you. I tried to shake it…nothing would shake. I felt I knew you…not from this lifetime. It just was…it all just was.
My recovery was as quick as I could manage. I had no intention of letting my self-imposed shackles bind me for any much longer than was humanly necessary. Humbly I accepted help…humbly, I accepted love and affection.
We all walk our deserts…Jesus: for 40 days and nights. Me? 2 years (plus the 23 previous years of constant uncertainty in my trial-error life. I can’t speak for the future). I wouldn’t change my lessons for anything…they led me to you. At the moment one would need a light in utter darkness, the light was there, shining through the cracks of my caved-in coal mine. All I had to do was pick at the rock from the inside to let the light shine through that much brighter…some call this faith in a predetermined destiny…I call this a personal choice to save oneself from a possibly disastrous fate.
My ego screamed “NO! I can do this alone!” and my inner voice, quiet yet powerful said: “I surrender”.
In that moment I stopped running. My knees hit the stoney ground and my arms raised up…not in defeat, but in relief. And my third eye cried blood. I was at my weakest, rawest, purest state of mailable ‘is’. And you were there to catch me. I could finally breathe.
The me I claimed to be resurfaced: slowly, cautiously, thankfully, humbly…and finally, peacefully happy.
You were not the only one to assist in my rebirth. There were almost a dozen others working to help me reassimilate back into today’s version of a socially acceptable society. The appreciation I felt/feel for each of them was/is immeasurable. This is not about them, I would have to write a book for each one to truly express the love and gratitude inside my soul.
This is for you. King of the River. King of my rebirth. King of my heart. Thank you. I wish we could have met under different circumstances, yet at the same time, the universe could not have sent me a better savior. Love and respect and appreciation will always fill my soul when thoughts of you flow through my mind.