After Your Ego Breaks

A letter to you, darling,

Since your mysterious disappearance, a lot has happened and changed. Not just externally, those are almost expected, but intrinsic transformation beyond even my wildest of imaginations.

It has been a year of adventure, of exploration, of growth. A few days ago, these words came to me and many unanswered questions finally found their resting places.

Real love remains even after your ego breaks.

While I’ve always known that ego has been my greatest challenge in life, meeting you is what taught me to stop leaning on it. To stop leaning on my own understanding and perception of reality. You and I had a few brief and deep conversations, we connected on a level that not many can do so naturally. There was definitely a form of chemistry between us, yet neither of us seemed to know what to do about it.

I battled myself for months, deliberating whether or not to make a move or contact you. I wanted to, each and every day.

But I knew that what you deserved, what you needed, and the type of understanding that you required was beyond my capabilities at the time. Much as I wanted to be strong enough for you emotionally, much as I wanted to give you the space you needed to grow, I couldn’t…

…because space is not a luxury I’ve been blessed with until more recently, and thus could not give what I did not have.

For this, I apologize, sincerely. I am sorry that I couldn’t give you what you asked for, that I couldn’t be who you needed me to be, and that I couldn’t see what it was you were trying to show.

Having come to terms with a neurological condition in recent years, learning how to integrate in an overwhelmingly temporary world, and moving past a series of repeated traumas in a few years whilst refusing to be victimized is honestly not an easy feat. Not easy, but still possible.

When we met, I was coming out of a dark hole, still crawling back to life. You met me when I was battered and bruised, torn and tethered. When I was nothing but a shriveled up patient in recovery who had just taken off a cast and had yet to relearn the functionality of those decayed muscles.

When we met, I was still in metaphorical rags.

I can understand why you left; I must’ve looked like a zombie coming after your brains. Maybe I was, figuratively speaking…

It was your soul.

It was your beautiful soul that drew me to you in the first place. I’d been living without one for so long that your radiance was an inevitable magnet to me; that bright light you see as you leave the tunnel of darkness.

I followed the light. I followed you…

By the time I’d finally made it out of the tunnel, you were gone!

Lost and displaced I was for a while, calling out to you and reaching out, not knowing why you’d disappeared.

Until now, I never figured it out. But I do love you, in the way you asked me to…

You wanted to be loved like the sun: from a distance, your light is lasting and appreciated. Up close, your passion burns so hot that you accidentally hurt those who overstep those boundaries. You pull away to protect the ones you love, not because you’re avoiding them, but because you want to keep them safe.

You, more than anyone, know your passions like no one else.

For that reason, you live your life the way you do, nomadic as a passenger. You don’t want to burden others because you know you can’t take on theirs either, yet you want to be loved nonetheless.

You deserve to be loved.

It has taken us this much distance for me to finally understand that. To understand how you want to be loved.

That, darling, is the love I can give you, because I don’t love anyone with the intention of ever “getting over” the person.

If I choose to love, then that love lasts; it doesn’t disappear, it merely transforms.

I do love you in the way you asked; it may not be what I had expected of myself, but it is what it is.

From the soul,

MG

 

Real love remains even after your ego breaks.
MG

From Kings to Paupers

A king’s crumb
The pauper’s pearl
~MG~

Kings, they sit amongst each other, feasting on rum and wine. They eat and drink, mock laymen and slash servants for fun. The kings awake the next morning with bitter hangovers, only to rule the People whose integrity was entirely disregarded merely hours prior.

Councillors, they converse with each other, sampling brandy and whiskey. They sup and swallow, scoff at their kings and throw crumbs at kids. The Councillors rise at dawn with no hangover, ready to persuade the kings to follow their tactics while simultaneously riding on moral high-horses, ripping off the underprivileged with unrequited taxes.

School children, they play alongside each other, drinking ale and juice. They gargle and guzzle, taunt each other and start brawls for personal amusement. The children awaken in the morn for school, only to be reprimanded by teachers for inappropriate attire and caned for disrespect.

Paupers, they laugh amongst each other, sipping gin and stale beer. They nibble and gulp, make a mockery of themselves and smash bottles across each others’ heads for fun. The paupers awake the next day with fuzzy heads, knowing that their actions only justified the ridicule of their rulers.

The People, the entirety of the humans, all engaged in the same manner with those who shared in their sameness. They all rotated like gears in a clock, trying to make it from sunrise to sunset without disrupting the direction. They were all the same, for they all shared in the belief that they were different. From kings with their superiority complexes to paupers with their simplex inferiority: each to its own, all did the same.

Despite this reality, their egos allowed them all to believe they were unique.

But they weren’t.

They really, really weren’t.

 

MG

 

Life — A Stage

There’s always that stage in life
when and where life, itself, is a stage.

Darling, do we live life on a stage?
Do we parade around the masquerades?
Do we perform as if we are there to show
The world of us, our “selves”, and all that we know?

Or do we live as if life is a stage?
In between heaven and hell, love and hate?
Existence is merely a few seconds in history
A few shreds of leaves written down in a biography.

What is our purpose, my dear,
Why are we here?
Is it of importance, or is time an illusion?
Are we happy, are we sure?
Well here’s some challenge to endure.
Are we miserable, or are we just bored?
Well here’s some advice, we’re all equally flawed.

We’re the same on the inside
Wearing different masks
Different human skeletons
Completing different tasks
The only walls between us
Would be the human ego
So how long can one ride along with this mainstream flow?

You want to blend in
But you were made to shine
You want to stand out
Yet you refuse to give it time
To put in the work
To plant the seeds
To grow the trees you breed

So take it slow, my dear
No fear
Life is but a stage
A stage on which you could choose to stand
Or a stage
You could simply
embrace.

MG