Seems as if true romance only exists in my mind.
When will it come to a point where I am not scavenging for reasons to be fully satisfied, and I can elevate from minimal extrinsic efforts, to maximum intrinsic bliss. Is the mindset of a recovering manic depressed loner so flawed that this damsel is cursed to always be in distress. Have I branded my chains from the era when I was once bound, and my suffering is all an illusion.
Most of my emotional thoughts play out in slow motion, with a magical glow and the objects of my past, present, and future desires looking eye to eye to eye. Should I begin to make those experiences more intense, since reality can’t seem to coexist…
When approached, I can drift further away, with a slight hover above my ideal other, and see if this is really what they want.
I will allow my heart to freeze, crack, and shatter that area of my body to expose the wildfire that smothers my organs as electricity shoots through my veins. My eyes will resemble the keyhole portal I have tattooed on the back of my neck: filled with dark clouds, that will lurk and swirl like the birth of a supercell storm. The electricity from my veins will emit sparks from my fingertips, and my blood will hemorrhage into pools beneath me, boiling. I will be the Alpha Medusa, with my hair breathing a life of its own, sprouting into sections, forming Venus Flytraps among rotating vines of poison ivy… a beautiful filigree.
Liquid hematite that will solidify soon as it drips into the boiling pool of blood, then roll to the edge of my vicinity, forming beautifully polished stones. It will be quite a scene, as some will run away in fear, some will observe in the distance, some will accept it as a summons.
The fearless will not be phased, but I will not be soothed. If they shall move closer, I will hyper-ignite, forcing them to be displaced. The daredevil will be overcome with the thrill of a challenge, taking an untamed leap to reach but their ill-mannered gesture will disgust me so much that I will pixelate into a transparent hologram and they will fail to ever achieve the slightest grasp.
The observer will not understand the purpose of such an occurrence, nor do they want to. They are content, pleased that they have the opportunity to see as they juggle the possibility of whether or not to believe. Some may take some abstract meaning from it, some are waiting to see what comes of it, if there is an end result. They rarely inch forward, some hide in the distance, keeping a safe distance in case I erupt. So the observers do not pose much of a threat unless I sense a shift in their intentions.
Since I am unable to see or hear as I am in that state, I cannot identify the species of fellow empaths. I can only feel the pulse of their soul, and if they withstand my distractions I will stabilize and their identity will be revealed. A lot of times I encountered animals being drawn to me because of their pure compassion, or muses that conjoined to form a protective barrier from outside forces as they harnessed and amplified my output. Those with the capacity to truly love, to be a True Love, will endure, absorb, and reciprocate my force. Patient, still, and vibrant… my Lover matches the height of my hover, being a force that magnifies the hematite, cools the boiling blood pool, while emitting light into my dark clouded eyes. They will reveal their core to me, so that I can feel the electricity and warmth of their soul. The only difference we have between us is that their heart is warm and mine is cold.
The longer they stay, the more my core repairs. My hair will lose its venom, and sprout into exotic flowers. My tears will cease and I will be able to see. I will observe my Love thoroughly, and after I am reassured of their intentions, I will be calmed, relieved, and exhausted from the magnitude of immense energy I released. I will fall faint for an extended amount of time but my patient ideal other will nurture and respect my idleness until I resurrect. By the time I regain strength and consciousness, we will unite as if we knew we would find each other after the universe played the greatest game of Wander & Seek, placing us on opposites sides of the world with a burden of awareness, hypersensitivity, and a vast assortment of obstacles and distractions to prolong our fulfillment.
I will finally thank my muses for preserving me: as some lived through me vicariously, others whispered cosmic affirmations, and others hummed mystical hymns to keep my pulse going. The creatures I drew near me will rejoice and flutter, dance, and sound off their praises. The observers will maintain their distance: some relieved the phenomenon did not end in disaster, some disgusted at the time they spent waiting on some grand spectacle, some apathetic about the entire ordeal...just proud to have yet another story to tell.
My Lover will become my other lung, staying close, in sync as I share all the visions and explorations I had while in my mode. We will laugh and play with the possibilities of never finding one another, secretly cringing at the reality of ending up with a completely opposite mate. We will be triumphant in the way our cosmic alchemy ordained our fate. The holes will fill, the cracks will mend. We will be able to choose whether we will return to earth’s standard of gravity or ascend beyond cosmic reach. The reality we construct will overcome and surpass those unfortunate scenarios of separation.
Passion galore, what more. We will be free… weightless, waitless.