Journal Entry of my future lover

June 2, 2012
There is a bit of overcast and it looks as if some wetness dripped ot the ground in the fresh morning air. I've just withdrawn my soul from the cradle of my lover's arm. It is similar to torture perhaps a masochistic but this love is to tender for description that veer on violence or negativity. The back and fort h of my mind but one thing is clear, today is a good day.
Today I search my mind for the beginning, that precocious time when I let this man enter into my heart and three calends have journey with us. We have watched the cyclic annuals crested with our love and passion. It's a record for me because I tend to cut into my intimacy before a year can gather round. I tend to judge people to quickly, too abruptly and too critically as if I am without flaws. I tend to want to keep this heart encased in a metallic structure. But then I learned the other day that when it gets cold enough, metal's strength is as weak as a baby's behind.
This is how he came into my life. I had become so cold that the metal around my soul began to loose it's pliability and it became brittle. Over the years and bit by bit and every so often the hardened substance flaked off like. There had to be a whole somewhere, a space worn and lacking any coverage because otherwise I had no intent on abiding intimacy ever again. I suspect that God's got a plan or some really good jokes. The ying and yang is there for a reason I suppose, all though I had hoped I would nestle into the comfort of my ying for the yang seemed a distant fantasy at best.
I prayed for this lover even while my heart was casted off into a chamber with a missing key. But as they say, if you can't get though the door, there's always a window. I sometimes wonder how I had the courage or even the wherewithal to know, to pray, to want and to finally give in to the thing that I least expected to happen to me. What was that sliver of something, that size-of-a-mustard-seed yearning for more out the human experience. I had comfortably settled into my non-existence, needing very little, only air and nourishment. The loneliness turned into being alone by choice, or so I convinced to myself and I awaited the rest of my days.
I must confess that having a lover isn't a better feeling. It is a different feeling, it is an encompassing of the little spaces that being alone could never fill. My experience at loving and being loved is more of a lateral expansion of my human experience yet there are moments when I step into spiritual understanding more profoundly. And I can see how being alone is not something that cease because you have a partner, no it is just a chance to walk around closer to another soul on the same type of journey.
I had expected after three years for some heightened sense of myself, the world and love but what I discovered is that growth is an internal process and mandated only by the self. Lover, my lover has his own process, we join with the willingness to except each other right where we are on the path and we understand that sometimes we can't be together and we understand that our love is one of the many tools we will need to know fully who and what we really are.
It's more like walking down a path or down the road with a really good friend. I might notice the lillies or he might notice the weeds choking the berry bush or I might bask in the sun while he worships the shade of a tall oak tree. I sense that what we do in this deeply abiding intimacy is live with the fire of desire to be the God's we really are. I can't help but find a sense of sadness at the notion of romantic love. For I suspect that it is empty, void of real substantive meaning but perhaps a path to the true meaning of coupleship.
I am content in this relationship unlike any relationship before and I am a better person not because of him. I am better at getting myself better, better at accepting the perfection in myself and in others. I am convinced that love isn't a one way street nor is it surrendering of power either. No love is as simple as breathing or looking at the stars or watching a plant grow. It is divine, peaceful, easy like Sunday morning and it simply is without any force or work.

I am perfect and I am whole and I am complete. I LOVE ME!