Anachel, A Renaissance Love Story
Posted on May 7, 2013
I’m working on a Paris post, I promise! But all of a sudden this new story has surfaced, one I previously thought to be a memoir about the passed few years I’ve taken in righting the many wrongs in my life, in getting myself back on track, connected in and looking to the world through a centered body, mind and soul. Life, however, has other plans for the spine of Anachel, A Renaissance Love Story has been revealed in my journal. My intuition hints that just as I finish Glow, so too this story will weave itself like fine golden tendrils linking the two novels akin to the varying levels of reality life presents. This one is near and dear to me, from the name Anachel, to the hidden truths, to the backstory that bloomed and is carried in my heart. I shared my being a hopeful romantic in “Kiss the Midnight Kiss” and here, well, it’s gonna just spill out of me, much like the poetry I write. This is a piece of Anachel, a love story of new beginnings for old souls weaving a life through the sands of time; connections that reach through the perceived distances of space and dimensions of being, uniting us like twin stars reflecting the wholeness we each possess. And the Truth is stranger than fiction ;)
They say you’re not supposed to share first drafts, to talk about the stories your writing, however, I’ve never been one to follow the rules, so I’m not sure why I’d start now. You only live once and better to start living without regrets, the only time I’m guaranteed is NOW, and in this now, I wanna share this. I’ve been participating in a novel writing course that has been quite fun, invigorating, and a bit scary too, so in the spirit of my class, here’s a glimpse of Anachel.
Have you ever met someone who just sees you? Sees through the layers, senses the shadows, the fears just as much as the hopes and dreams. Someone who opens you from the inside out? Beyond romantic possession or persuasion, but a connection tied to the very art of being human; subtle on the surface but very much delving into the deep.
It’s easy to confuse such a connection, love versus romance, I know this because along with separating those two distinct facets of emotion, I ended up redefining love, only to turn around finding love.
But he, yes, he, came into my life and so clearly saw me that I did what any other curious, yet fearless, woman would do. I stuck around, rather than keeping to my usual motto “keep everyone at an arms distance and bail before getting attached”. He did the running, for the record, not that a record is being kept. But honestly, if he hadn’t, at some point, I would’ve ran. I would’ve pushed him away to protect myself and my fragile human heart. I know love makes us strong, but in the terms our culture defines it, it can hurt. Hurt like hell with blinding clarity that there is so much out of one’s control. It was around this time, during my maelstrom of identified and unidentified factions of self, that he, Abby, entered my life. He squared my heart moving me from the inside out, and loves me for simply being me -a whirlwind of love, light, hurt and pain. Somehow I found myself reconciling the duality of life through the compassionate eyes he turned on me, and the empathic heart he used to kickstart mine.
Hmmm, I better back up and let this story unfold. My name is Anachel and I’m someone I’ve newly met. This may sound like an odd thing to say, but rather than awakening like Sleeping Beauty from a kiss, my Prince Charming awoke me with a touch; when our souls touched. In meeting we tunneled down to the very depths and saw ourself reflected back. In seeing such, we accepted each as we are, as only we could be. Sounds corny, I know, or perhaps perfectly normal. Take your pick.
Either way, I wasn’t prepared for him or the events that came along with him and I liked to think I was ready for almost anything. Boy, was I wrong. And I’m very grateful for being wrong. I had lost faith in myself, lost the magic, the joy, and wonder for which to view and experience the world; the spirit child’s eyes. I kept myself in a boxed up version of “perfection”, which is in quotes as there’s nothing perfect about me other than being perfectly imperfect. I’m flawed and make mistakes, however, I thought that if the surface looked picture perfect, then no one would look deeper; forcing me to look deeper than the thin facade I present as myself. I was silent, afraid and always feeling like an impostor in my skin. Until Abby. Until I rose to greet him and in doing such I grew into my skin. What greater gift can one give than the ability to be yourself. And that’s what he gave me, along with reams of romantic poetry and love letters that seemed to flow endlessly from the stirring in his touch. I used to harness my romantic self, feeling she was a fool to put her heart on the line for someone else, however, even a fool can realize the folly in keeping one’s heart in an iron clad cocoon, nothing can be released and seen, but in the same vein, nothing can connect in either. I felt the reflection of whole through Abby’s divine lens of love turned on me. He directed the light to the recesses where shadows touched and then like the sliver of the moon waxing full when the whole shines, so too I shine, finally whole.
Tonight looking up at the moon, a pearlescent beacon of hope, I know that somewhere, somehow he’s looking up at the night sky. Feelings for him stir me as remember something I wrote to him, long ago.
Our spirits have always known, but this human longs for your touch, never have I found myself so thirsty for the quench that you bring for in each others presence time fades away and we settle like twin stars reflecting back the beauty of just being, sharing, living, learning, loving.
Oh the loving, for you fill me up by reflecting the wholeness I possess, for in your heart I am whole, complete. Divine love for which you spring eternally, into my heart like a river to the ocean, endlessly.
But this sad human framed mind knows not that which my soul knows and heart feels, for the passions remain untamed and loneliness does break my feeble mind trying to escape as you caress me with your words, embrace me with your heart of no form, you reach across this peceived distance of time and space revealing to me, that which is already known, already felt…
That we are one.
You’ve woken me from my slumber love, your eyes reflect the quiet passions of this place where wanderers still roam free with the knowing between you and me, that we are always and forever, beloveds.”
Chuckling I’m reminded of writing that prose, I was missing him terribly on a night much like tonight. He’d laugh his deep timbre laugh at the use of beloved, but smile knowing that he feels it too. Seeing beneath our beautiful.