Creation and Self

They say creation comes when you are at your most emotional. But, really ? Does it ever?

Many have written about writer's block, too. And that muse abandons them when they are going through difficult times. The pendulum swings either way, it seems.

The last few months have been far from easy. I have swung from being crazily busy to being rendered inactive after falling off my bicycle, just before the pandemic had us in semi-lock-down. I spent all of my time during this period wearing a knee-brace, and a good chunk of that having to use crutches.

I would have thought this was something that would throw me - as would being confined and forced to stay away from socialising.

In reality I was healing, healing from a huge gaping hole that was caused by living with someone who had addiction and bestowing on him different kinds of love. What started off as love among equals soon turned to be, for me, a love that provided support and resolved itself, perhaps, into the son I should have had, would have had if circumstances had been different.

There was plenty of yo-yo'ing but, I think, while the situation was struggling in its death-throes, I knew I had to rise again because this was definitely not my destiny. Even during that relationship, I knew that this could not be the way forward for me, that there was some other way for me.

The answer came as soon as I was ready to step away, forward into the world while shedding this unneeded guilt, this unworthy sense of obligation that I had allowed to develop. The minute I shed it, my eyes opened up to something, someone, that had been standing there for all of the last ten years. Lying in wait for me, it seems, as I had subconsciously lain in wait until he was also ready.

I feel life has preserved me for this man, made me ready for him. And it has done the same with him, for me. It's like we have always been around each other, at arm's length, never daring to make a move. For very long. Now that I have him, I cannot get enough. I cannot stay away and do not want to imagine a life without him.

Life has rewarded me for being good - the friends, the arts and other talents, the wealth (not opulent, but sufficiently abundant to live a decent life).  And then again, life has given me this very big gift.  It seems that, inside me, when I was working towards my healing and enjoying being stuck inside, reluctant to go out, I was readying myself to receive this gift. Himself, no less. I'd never thought he'd see me worthy, I'd never think he'd take a second look but he is, and he is also beginning to discover who I really am, beneath all the layers and minus the poison, and that's the bonus.

Here's to rebirth.