A Love Letter

Dear Self,

We have been on a trip like no other and we wanted you to know its depths.

It all started when my self was finally set free like I always dreamed it one day might. That self always did love to dive head first in Huxley’s swimming mysticism. Who would have known what journeys lied behind 100μg?! You always know. You took Us there…exactly where We needed to go. You know the path that lie ahead. Such beauty.

How could I not exalt such beauty?! It is pure bliss…and terror. But You know the way of it. Balance builds beautiful bridges. And those bridges cross many unbridled streams of Chaos…a magnificent network towards Unity.

My self knows love. It knows it deeply, because her self is of an indescribable nature. She saw the changes in Us. She needed the perspective. It was time for her self to be set free. It was time for Us to be her guide.

She fell into it, excited with anticipation. The humor of this physical reality melting away…delightful. She found the Tarot cards, those ancient symbols We intuit. They call to her, deeply. The Moon, Death, and Temperance. The symbols take hold…her self is released. They rise above, into a dark room. Light outside the room strikes a prism on the wall and fractals emerge among an orange haze. They are Us. We have called them. They move about, confused by the intrusion. One steps forward, a frail hand resting upon a shell of worldly flesh.

I don’t understand, for my self is not present in this room. But her self does, it is among Us. The One who steps forward enters, pushing her self into the background. My Grandmother, long deceased even before my birth, steps through, into worldly flesh.

She holds my hand, eyes closed, head turned away. She is amazed at the man I have become, but she cannot look at me. She touches my cheek, wet with tears. She muses upon the family, my Father whom was always her favorite child, and upon her missed opportunities that came from a life of haste. And then she is gone.

Her self returns, struggling to reclaim possession. My Grandmother left her a passing glimpse as she fled back into the room…a stern warning for the future. Tears stream down her face. The perspective she has wrestled with for the last year finally coming to its climax. She opens her eyes and turns her head. “I’m leaving on Wednesday to stay with my Dad for a little bit,” she says. I am confused. Sadness takes hold. I ask, “What do you mean?” She responds, “I know now what I have felt for the past year. It is Us. We are incomplete. We need time to be apart so that We may grow as We need to. Your Grandmother has shown me all of the great things You will do, but I am in the way. I’ve been planning this for some time now, but now I understand why.” We cry. I hold her and she holds me.

And then she is gone.

We were but two waves with a faint attraction slowly drifting together. We became One. We shared all of our intimacies and passions with each other. We shared our ups and our downs. Everything, intertwined. But the drifting never stopped…it never does. And so now we move, separately as our own waves again. We are but waves among waves among waves connected together by depth and the unknown. For We are the Ocean. And among that depth will forever be Us and our love.

I’m left to wrestle with my Ego knowing an infinite sadness. But deep down, my Soul knows nothing but an infinite love.

Sincerely Yours,
sinclair

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