Silence is not golden
Dear loved ones,
I have been laying in bed all day trying to feel better and watching sad romantic movies. Little Women, Sense and Sensibilities, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and now Jane Austin’s book club. A film fest of sorts. I am a glutton for all these fine feelings and emotions. I like to torture myself it seems because each movie has a happy ending with man and woman finally realising that they love each other and never want to be apart.
There is always a long eloquently spoken litany of reasons why the man ran away from the woman, or why she was reluctant and didn’t understand her true feelings. Words were spoken and explanations given that were satisfactory to both parties. All was crystal clear and there finally was no ambiguity.
In my own love story, I have used many words, clear and concise, yet these have fallen on deaf ears. Where is my happy ending? All I hear is the silence. The nothingness is loud.
Two years ago, this month I moved to Toronto to live with my daughter and my grandson. I left behind an ailing husband. I ran away from him. Escaped. I have spoken about my marriage (2nd) extensively on this blog so I will not go into it again and my reasons for taking flight. Believe me the need to do this was considerable. I left almost everything that I owned behind in the house, except for my paintings and art supplies, all else mattered not. My life mattered, my health mattered, my children and grandchildren mattered.
I didn’t expect to fall in love. Consumed with fire and heat. Melting with need and want. Taken over and rendered senseless. Useless to myself and others who needed my help and attention. What a messy painful business.
I said too much, felt too much, loved too much. It really was too much but I could handle it and wanted more.
Now all is quiet.
Did I imagine it all? Was it just me creating an event? I am starting to have doubts, except that I feel him still. Will he not break this impasse? Say something, even hello?
Silence is not golden.
Thank you for reading my post today. As you can see, I truly am under the weather, as the expression goes, and am being very melodramatic. I have said too much again and you all know who I have been referring to, if you have read any of my previous posts.
Mr. Perfect is keeping me company with his messages and words of love. I wish I could fall in love with him because he is already half in love with me. It would be so easy. Even Mr. No Strings Attached wanted to come out of self isolation to be with me, but I canceled that get together. Mr. Three is weighing in from time to time, but I don’t give his words much credence anymore. Bla bla bla. (this is me just blabbing away and I am getting sick of myself). I should be talking about something more important on this blog. Something that could help others. Something that would benefit others. Maybe my twin flame journey is interesting, and I hope you like the paintings that are included at the beginning. I should just talk about art instead of heart center opening, kundalini sexual energy exploding, telepathy and souls connecting in the astral plane, and all the other magical things that have been happening.
Now I am smiling as I see your confusion. I love you. Hugs and Kisses, Summerhill Lane xoxo
P.S. I wrote the above post yesterday, and I am feeling much better today and my mood is also much brighter. I feel so lucky to be alive and to have been given so many spiritual gifts. I hope I can use them wisely and not wallow in self inflicted misery and crying for a lover who has other things to do.