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My Last Love

Updated on February 26, 2010

Many Lives same pattern

love going mod
love going mod
love as tradition
love as tradition
love as service
love as service

Uncommitted Lovers Make Friends

I confessed to him you were my last chance for love darling. Ron raised his red eyebrows to look at me incredulously, “but..but..you can’t just give up like that!”

Oh cont-rare, I was thinking but I can, I can!

For now, with that decision I was set free, although I could never explain that in a million years. Yet, for him, for the sake of love perhaps, I could at the least try. I might ask, like the lyrics of a song, how many times can a white dove sail, before she sleeps in the sand? A million times? To be free, can it be simply a decision made quietly while collecting the pieces of a broken heart and giving it to God to mend?

For I’d had so many men. Not only in this life, I’d surveyed other lives where I had this pattern. Whereby I’d enjoyed the company of men and they mine.
As well, I am not just a woman with charms. I am a man who has killed other men in battle. I have nothing to be proud of to count up my lives, I see nothing to take pride in, although at the same time, I have nothing which I am sorry for, when I speak to God I am not incriminated, just held accountable.

J (Y'shua) really does wash sins away. Sins are errors and none are without these sins. Yet a day dawns, we will return to our innocence and what was, will be no more in our minds. I wrote a song and declared it my masterpiece. In the lyrics I spoke to my last love, knowing someday he would understand. Perhaps he would never love me fully and completely, but I would accept it if he understood me.

I said to him in the song “did you ever love a bird, that struggled in your arms? So you had to set him free, just to keep him from harm? So in setting him free, I judged not his behavior to seek the company of many fine damsels over my own fine company, as had I not done the same? In setting him free, I had set myself free in that way. And so, he became, unknowingly from the start, my last love, the last time I reached for the perfect relationship.

What happened in the freedom, whereby I was not concerned with his aches and pains, his struggle to live awhile yet longer, I could now concentrate on my love of humanity itself, and not just this single individual, who would deny that love was strong enough to heal the shattered body and spirit. For my way was shown then, that first, I must work on myself, for if he did not see the value in our relationship, then surely, I must have failed to show it to him and so I am responsible.

True, he did return to me, proving the saying that if you set something free, and it returns to you, it is yours. If it returns not, it never was yours. However, by that time, apologies were empty words and no matter how small he made himself appear, I could not plump up his ego as he may have expected me to. Too great was the spaciousness inside me now, and he knew somewhere deep inside him, he had expressed his gift to me was akin to this new freedom I had attained.

We spoke truly, more through facial expressions at that time as we closed the door on the relationship. I knew he was dying. That was no secret from the start. Yes, and there is freedom in dying, make no illusions about that. I saw him once more, years later. Only in dream state, which is more real to me than waking reality.

He was moving out of state to be with his father. I sensed the relationship would be mended between him and his father, and he could help his father this way. Again, he wished to gift me. With something material it appeared. He was in a hurry to attend to his affairs now and could not gift me right at this time, with some vehicle which he needed to use to get to where he was going. I did not think much about getting gifts one way or the other, yet I much appreciated the thought he thought of me in appreciation despite we had parted on a most sour note.

My mouth had been tightly closed, my spirit absent at the time. I had felt so used by him yet could not speak about it coherently, for I knew I had certainly used him also. I had used him to free myself, while it appeared he did not want to be totally free from the association, I saw nowhere for it to go and as a culminated thing. Still, I love the dreams. All former lovers show up in my dreams, to my delight, cleansed of all negative feelings caused by our interaction. That too, is a freeing thing.

Surely, all is in divine order. This is proven to me time and time again, that there is a reason things happen as they do, even though we are not conscious of this divine order, while we experience the confusion of a perceived failure to communicate love as the only truth. The white dove rests in the sand now. Life is good. Be ye cleansed from sorrow upon the rising sun, for all things are newly created with the dawn and we walk in grace and innocence once more, as we did of old.

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