One thing I’ve learned in my short life is that if you’re not feeling loved… is to give love. It works. During my moments of hurt (which trust me, hurt quite a lot), I had to reach from a Rumi-Shams place. There in that beautiful nirvana is an infinite love that allows one to experience love regardless of their pain. It felt sooo good to give love knowing how I felt at the time. It felt oh so good to do it. And so therapeutic! Not only did it feel wonderful to give to those who I felt at the time betrayed me, but I think it somehow helped build a different and much-needed foundation for a newfound friendship. It also turned out that there was miscommunication, which often is the case, which led to me feeling lied to. The hurt lessened. Although the surrender-magic is still gone for me, the love is not. I cannot ever stop loving. I must love. I must love people. I must give myself. I must love others even if they hurt me. I must love. I must I must I must. It was so so so so hard to get over the obstacles to find that Rumi place. But once I got there, the love just started shining and damn if it doesn’t just start flowing out of me like a fountain. Say what you want about me, love me, hate me, but I don’t hold grudges. Never have. Never will. There’s too much too love in life and too much worth appreciating out there.
Yesterday Kasha and I spent nearly 12 or 13 hours (maybe longer with hair, makeup, and wardrobe changes) doing photoshoots for her website. Xaenith came over to watch and slave m helped out with some of the lighting and set design. Over the course of the next couple weeks, I’ll post some pictures of the finished products so you can see how magnificent she looks up close and personal.
In this particular blurry photo, you might notice my leg in the shot (I was trying to show my presence in the photo), as well as Xaenith leaning against the wall watching, as well as Kasha on the bed posing for shots. It isn’t the greatest of photos by any means and you can’t even really make out any faces… but I figured it would be cool to share a part of our 3-experience we had yesterday.
The three of us are learning how to communicate better which I love, which shows me that we can overcome anything. Anything worth having takes time. Sometimes I feel like I’m just a baby and learning how to walk and don’t know anything. Sometimes I feel like I just don’t know… anything. Maybe everything I thought I knew… I really don’t know at all. Just when I think I understand and know people, I get it all wrong.
This is why it continually amazes me that my hypnosis-listeners look up to me. They actually think I say insightful stuff… when the truth is… times like this… I don’t know a damn thing. I’m clueless. About love. About communication. About… aaahAHAHahahhahahahaha…
All I do know is… I made the decision a long time ago that I’m a Goddess, so I refuse to be a ragdoll or a pin cushion for someone else’s pleasure. There are slaves for that. If someone is going to be cold to me, I will either be hurt by it or I will opt out of the relationship. Which leads me to the main question I get wrapped around and tangled with: how many moments of hurt must a person endure before they say: enough is enough - I want out?…… *sigh* I endured one. But it was one of the biggest hurts of my life. Why did it hurt so much, you ask? Because I wanted it to hurt that much. He offered to be my drug, which I needed him to be. And when that drug was taken away from me, it felt like heroin being stripped from my spirituality. Now that I feel I’m sobered up from “the magic of the relationship” - I have an option. I could get addicted to the beautiful, addictive magical spiritual heroin he could give me, which I know good and well is NOT infinite and feel good while it lasts…. and then experience the horrible chills of the “come down” experience when I realize I need more time with him than he has time he’s willing to commit. *sigh*
So for the time being, I’ve made the decision to be without the drug. And goddammit it was one of the most memorable experiences I ever had. The way he looked at me WAS the drug. That’s ALL it was. It certainly wasn’t physical at all. I got lost in his eyes and they’d turn me into dust, literally. And he was a boy, Jesus Christ. A boy.
I’m a hopeful romantic. I can’t help but hope for magic all the time. It’s all I think about, really. And people wonder why I prefer girls. Maybe it’s best to stick with what I know best… women.
Love
Isabella
xoxoox
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