This is so new to me, something I've never known before. I’ve been in love and it wasn’t reciprocated; I’ve been loved and it wasn’t reciprocated. I‘ve never been in a situation where the giving and receiving are one; never before felt the intensity of growing love. It is a chain reaction: every breath, every whisper of loving kindness is returned tenfold, breeding exponentially, unbearably.
It is so full. Beyond full. There isn’t enough room for it within me and it exudes out and all around me. It seems there is nothing I cannot love, now that I have tapped the source of its infinite supply.
It is incredible.
Five and a half years I spent with Robyn, four with Tracey, and not once did I experience this. I wasn’t capable; too busy despising myself to find the love those relationships so desperately needed. ‘Emotional immaturity,’ Robyn called it, and I guess there are few better descriptions of the pattern of suppressed anger and self-deprecation that she was so familiar with. Why did she put up with it for so long?
I could never bring myself to tell her that I’d never been in love with her; could never give her the reason I had for leaving her. I knew then - two and a half years ago – that I wanted this. And it seems now that all this time has been spent learning how to access it. It simply isn’t possible to receive what I cannot give; and now I can give it readily and freely, openly receiving it is an equally joyous affair. This is paradise, make no mistake.