I have spent all my life trying to find love, obtain love, understand love… There were times Love was confused for Visibility. Other times, Love was mistaken for possessing. Many times, what I called love was mistaken for emotions where love wasn’t even present.
For me, love means something entirely different.
In our Patriarchy society, love is romanticized into a toxic ideal that delusions men and women into pursuing an unachievable goal: Finding a “True Love” and loving them and being loved mutual. It launches in every one of us a massive “race” to “find the One,” settling for less than ideal, and pursuing someone who “loves you back just as much as you love them.”
But at 43 years old, two divorces, one very recent… unusual situation, spending a year living “The Way of the Buddha” and being celibate… I have achieved a different way of thinking about love.
This thinking began in 2015 when Imagination (one of my Alters) fell in love with a married man who lived in Texas. I lived in New York. The whole affair lasted 3 months. It was online only. And we spoke once on the phone. It was an emotional affair only.
However… what I felt for him was nothing less than extraordinary.
It was a love that left me happy simply because he was happy. It was a love that was completely free of possession or jealousy. It was a love that simply desired his happiness and joy. Nothing more. Nothing less. I never once thought, “What’s in this for me?” I never once thought, “Does he love me?” I was only ever, and am still, just grateful for the time we had.
I spent the next five years trying to put my relationship back together with a Narcissistic husband who threw me out in the end anyway (a blessing). I went on to other lovers. Fell in love. Broke up with someone I deeply loved in the name of Ethics. And then I wished for a man who I would love so deeply that he would break my heart, and I would never be the same.
And oh… did I. And he did. And I won’t.
He and I loved each other. We still do. But my Trauma Recovery scarred him, hurt him, traumatized him. And, to protect himself, he pulled away… he pulled further away… and further.
And so many people advised me. So many people stepped in to shower me with idealized dreams of romance.
“You deserve someone better.”
“The right man is for you out there.”
“There are so many fish in the sea…”
At that moment, Robin Williams’ face came to mind of him sitting across from Matt Damon and adamantly saying, “My wife is dead.”
No. Some of us DON’T get to love like in the movies.
Some of us ARE NOT made to receive love.
Some of us are not happy in any relationship.
Some of us only get to BE loved.
Some of us only can GIVE love.
Some of us will never know love.
But Society has put this massive pressure on us to go, seek it, pursue it… and this conditioning makes us MISERABLE until we find it.
In most cases Love is the Impossible Quest.
And too many people walk around ramming their idealized dreamed down the throats of others. Including the love of my life. It wasn’t until this last Wednesday, 7 July 2023, the last time we spoke and they were not pleasant words, that I realized exactly what I am, how I’m different, and how I love.
In my life, I have always toggled two streams: The frequency that fits my song and the frequency forced on me by others.
It has taken me most of those 43 years to shed every last frequency that doesn’t belong to me.
On Thursday, it was my old poverty mindset with money.
And today, this morning, it was love. The final and last frequency that is not mine. So what is mine?
I sat on the steps below, smoking a bowl, thinking on my love. How, a week ago, I was divided between two roads: do I pursue a life with my love, or do I close the door, burn the bridge, and “pursue another love?”
My stomach clenched and I felt sick. Sure, this Imp of mine doesn’t love me…
I thought on sex and how some people are asexual, some are gay, straight, bi… Sex is on a Spectrum.
Love is on a Spectrum.
I don’t love like the Story Books insist I’m supposed to love. What causes me real pain, is being forced to like according to Society.
When I think on my love for the Imp, I feel joy, happiness, celebration, certainty, closure. I have found the one I’m supposed to love.
I do not need nor desire him to love me back. I do not need nor I desire him to touch me, have me, accept me. Loving him is all I need.
Others are eager to learn of my marital status and ask, “Are you married?”
No.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
No.
“Will you go out with me?”
No. I am not available. The position has been filled.
“Oh, you’re engaged?”
No. I am soul-bonded, mated for life, committed to a man who does not love me. And that’s okay. That is my happiness.
Thinking about leaving him or dating others disgust me. That is where the pain starts. That is where my suffering begins.
I shift my position back to the mindset that I love him.
I do best alone when others do not love me. I do best when I am isolated with my work. Over the years I built the perfect man for me, and I manifested him. The Universe gave him to me. But right now, he needs time and space. He needs to heal and find out who he is. And I will wait. He loves me. I know he does. And when all the pain and hurt goes cold, he’ll think on me. And he’ll reach out, cautiously to see how I’m doing.
I will be calm and quiet. Gentle and kind. I will simply show him how I have changed. Things will be calm and quiet and slow. And he will reach out to me. And I will show him time and time again that I have changed. That I am calm.
And I will not “go find another” because this is My One. Because he is the Love of my life. And loving him is the highest of honor. I am soul-bonded to him. I gave my vow… and when you’re the Goddess of Manifestation, when you give a vow, you are soul-bonded to that vow for that life and all the lives to follow. And in each life, I re-give that man my vow. And in some lives, he loves me back. In some lives, I never find him. In some lives, he doesn’t remember me. In some lives, I have him for a short while. In the next life, I will start this hunt over again… and again and again and again and again…
Sometimes, people live to give love. And sometimes, people live their whole lives never knowing love.
And sometimes, people live opening their hearts and lives to another who forever needs to live outside of the societal concept of love. Love is the one emotion that truly… has no rhyme or reason to it.
So here I am at 43 and NO interest in pursuing anyone. No interest in “moving on.”
I once wrote the words, “My perfect love who wasn’t,” I always thought I had meant, “My perfect love who wasn’t perfect.” No I know, I meant, “My perfect love who wasn’t the perfect love for me.” And I knew it. Because the moment I wrote those words for my second ex-husband, they made me sad as I realized the was not “The One.”
I met this one, and there was no doubt. I was met with an overwhelming calm that said, “Anna. Put your bags down. Here, with this man, you are home. You never ever have to look for love.”
And every time society said, “Run away!” … Every time a friend or my traumas screamed to run… The Universe, my gut, every fiber of my being screamed, “NO! You will stay with that man because even though it’s hard today, one day it will not be hard. Because it’s hard right now and you’re scared, one day he will come back to you and you will be whole and solid and stable. You are to keep your doors for him OPEN because one day, he will know you and miss you. And you will simply smile and trust him.”
And he and I will resume our lives together as if no time at all has passed.
That, Universe, is what I want manifested. Don’t try and hand me anyone else. I’m pointing at him and saying, “That one! For he’s the one who saw my worst, who endured my growth alongside me, and NO ONE ELSE can ever again be tested that deeply for their honor and love and trust than he. Juanito. I love you. You match my frequency. And this is the only way I know how to love.”