Is it true love?

It does not happen every day...

The figs I bought at the market bled all over my hands. They are mushy and overripe; the juices spray when I split the flesh with my teeth.

It is a terrible thing to be so enchanted by a person that you allow yourself to question everything that you believe in.

What have I said? What did I want?

Was the intent pure?

With insides so soft, the pits slip out of the fruit. I don't have to try to tear them from the hair-like strands. The bits that get stuck between my teeth. These new incisors I purchased. They are whiter than the rest of me and glisten as I floss.

I do not worry about things outside of my control. I anguish over the elements I do have some propriety over. This is my weakness: I cannot decide where to place myself. I am listening to my guts; they have nothing to tell me.

Today - today - today. I sat in meditation. One hour on the wooden floors by the red curtains, so when I closed my eyes, all I could feel was orange. All the cards I pull are of snakes or worms or serpents. Circles. Beginnings. Never-ending stories. I have to keep trying; what else is there to do?

It is not what you think it is.

I've created paranoia that lives inside of me and nowhere else. I want to contain it; I don't want it to burst and bleed outward like the figs. I have five left and one day to stay in this home. What will I do with all the leftovers?

I worry about things that are silly and useless.

Episode 1.

He and I had a nice time in the aftermath of our episode. He has nail marks on his face and arms. Me feeling not so proud of it, though not regretting my actions.

I mourn everything that is behind me, for it is dead. He is dead to me as soon as he leaves the apartment. I heard him dance down the stairs, and I could watch him walk the street. He heads North, always toward the Marmaray. I've never seen him walk in any other direction. I don't watch him, so how do I know where he goes?

I will tell you what happened.

The day after, I apologized. I did Ho'oponopono for him and Esra. I did not cry. I used my energy to send blue light. We messaged a few times, though he was accusatory and angry.

After the yoga class, I was on the phone with Clara when the doorbell rang a few times, and then I heard someone knocking at my door. I had a pair of black shorts and a damp tank top on. My hair was a mess in a low bun. No makeup. My friends are out of town, and no one knows where I live, so I was curious as I strode to the door. I extended it a crack to peek through the gap before I extended the door the whole way.

My heart leaped to my throat when I saw who it was. He was wearing a dark shirt and light jeans. Different for him. He is always in black. Pink shoes. I like this detail about him.

I let him in.

We sat on the couch and I brought out a pitcher of water and mixed nuts. I am hospitable regardless of the occasion. The sun was setting. I did not turn on any lights, so the mood was full of shadows and grief. He leaned forward with his hands on his thighs as he ate the peanuts. I sat beside him with my knees drawn to my chest. I left him to shower, to take a quick rinse, and slipped into a silk romper. Sleeveless and long, it flowed around my body as I curled into a tight little ball beside him.

Damn the music of the heart! How my body sings when he is next to me!

Is being a writer tied to these moments of anguish - drawing them out in the mind and putting them down on the page for someone else to witness?

Maybe my story is not so important. And maybe it will encourage someone to live with heart and stand strong in their integrity.

He claims that I misunderstood the other night. Before attacking him, I should have asked him if what Esra said was true.

It is not normal to lunge as someone like this. He shook his head and ate a peanut.

I said very little. I learn more when I listen and open my whole body to the experience. I sent out a gentle thread of green light and tied it around my body.

You are crazy, I am crazy... this is crazy. He shook his head and ate a peanut.

When did love ever make so little sense?

Why do I lean toward these little disasters?

Damn him for coming over!

I did not touch him; we stared at each other for some time.

I was drinking in his aura, sending the threads into his body to probe and feel for the lie.

I could not find it. I could not locate the knot inside of him and he kept repeating the same line: I am honestly with you every time. You don't understand me. I tell you every time.

When people feel threatened, they lie. When people fear being judged, they lie. When people feel wronged or want to hurt you, they lie.

I have not told a lie in a very long time. I am very candid about who I am, what I want, and where I am going. If my actions do not line up with my words, it is because the situation has changed and what I said no longer holds. Is this a lie? I cannot control my environment or what goes on in the outside world. I can adjust as I see fit to survive and keep moving forward.

What Esra said felt true to me when she said it. Yet, I have been looking for a reason to trip E and let him fall so I could walk away. To protect myself before I go. She liked him so so much. I could tell by the way she looked at him. She cut me out of the connection and refused all that I offered as soon as she entered the home. Why bother coming over? I do not know Esra and did not get to sit with her long enough to understand her temperment. Or her motive.

I write these things again and again to sort out the truth. To assess how I feel and where my mind is playing little games with me. I want so badly to understand and my mind will conjure stories to protect me from pain.

And I have been in a lot of pain for five days. Wondering about him and her. Imagining them together in bed. Sleeping and making love, but it would not be like this between them - the love. I felt nothing shift when they stood close to each other. There is no depth. He is not connected to her, though she is very attracted to him. She is a bit lonely; I know this because I feel it, too.

To be in your mid-thirties, childless, and perhaps without close friends or community, to have no one to touch and cuddle, perhaps this is time to get a pet? I would if I were staying here.

They were in a physical relationship. It is true. I can feel it in my body. I felt it during the Kundalini practice and in the yoga nidra I did with Clara. My entire body burned and I felt like I was going to throw up. She is not attractive in her energy or physical body, and the mixture of our person through E makes me feel nauseous.

We sat on the couch and it got very dark, so we were hunched over in the shadows. He was leaning forward, me leaning back.

I am honestly with you every time. I like you.

He has lied to protect himself and keep a girl on a hook for when I am away. I understand this. I knew the whole time. It is why I wanted to meet her. That is why I said he could do what he pleases with himself, his body, and his actions. I have no ownership and I don't want it. I just want the truth.

Though, what is true for him perhaps isn't true for her. He says they spend time together; they had sex while I was in Antalya, but since my return, it's just me.

His intentions are pure, his heart is with me. I feel this. So why lie?

Photo source.