the ides of March

March 15, 2020

Future me,

Maybe you already predicted this, but I think I might have a crush on Boo! I spend a lot of time with her because of the quarantine, and it’s been so lovely. I still have this strange fear of romantic partnerships, the far that no one could ever really love me and find me sexually attractive. And I hope it’s not so much that I find myself undesirable, although I think it just doesn’t occur to me that I could be seen as a sexual person.

It’s excruciating and confusing how the Magician made me feel so unbelievable beautiful and gorgeous and also so undesirable and unworthy. He would stare into my eyes looking like a complete puddle of lovesickness and say, “You’re so gorgeous, Lainey.” He would make me feel like I was overwhelming to behold, would kiss my feet, every toe, and say, “Perfect toes, perfect feet, perfect legs, perfect knees …” all while kissing up my entire body. And he would also totally ignore my sexual advances. I felt so unnatural with him sexually after awhile.

But we were truly in love. I wonder if he succeeded in his attempts to deny the purity and beauty of our love. He said it himself that it was a tragedy. But he terrifies me. I don’t understand how he is able to disappear into new “characters” if you will, so easily. It is as if he is a wound desperately seeking the balm of love and yet fears love so deeply that any hit to his ego sends him diving from one consciousness into another.

It sounds absolutely insane when put in those words because it seems as if he has almost no similar characteristics to his other selves, which isn’t true. But for one, even on the outside his friends, family, and former lovers have made comment that he is an extreme Black-and-White personality with no perception of a grey area. He makes extreme personality and lifestyle changes every couple of years (e.g. devout guru religious type to hippie free love wild child to strict ascetic again; no structure versus rigid routine).

And also, I was his deepest and most meaningful connection; I knew him extremely well (or at least I thought I did), until suddenly and as if completely without warning, I was peering into the eyes and soul of a complete stranger. It was as if he disposed of the parts of him that knew me.

I wonder if those parts will remain deep inside him and pull as a red cord between us, or if he is truly capable of forgetting. If that’s the case, then true poetry, true romance, is dead.

It pains me to say it, but I still don’t know that I won’t be in love with him forever, if I will ever heal from the horrible things he did to my brain, the deep tethering of pleasure and love to fear and insecurity.

My devotion to him terrifies me. I’m terrified that I’ll never feel that freedom, the insane euphoria of utter submission, trust, worship and mutual understanding. I still believe we are mirrors of the same manifestation of divinity: yin and yang.

And I still wonder if my time with romance is over. I don’t believe I’ll ever find a love that provides me with something more meaningful, or even equally as meaningful, as my love for Magician, or just as important, how his love made me feel: like the god of my own universe, like a pillar of light called to save the hearts of the world, simply by existing. And I know I made him feel SO good too.

I remember how he would moan and squirm and just completely melt into a puddle beneath and on top of me. We would reach simultaneous intense orgasm with zero effort.

I’m ruined from it honestly.

It was like he was my soulmate from day one. And it still doesn’t make any sense to me that we would feel that and not end up together.

I wonder if any of this ever passes through his thoughts or resonates in his soul, or if the being that I knew, that possesses those memories, has passed from the ether into oblivion. I miss that beautiful boy. I want him more than I want my own soul. It dulls in comparison to him, my once bright star. Perhaps these feelings are those of the demented girl still inside me. All I can do is pray that they will pass through and that tomorrow when I wake I will be in a less tormented place.

I just felt so natural with him, and I don’t want to end up alone, but I also don’t want to sacrifice the quality of connection that I know is possible in love, the sensational occult-like splendor of perfect chemistry.