Estrangement. What exactly is it?

From the very moment I was born and drew upon my first breath, I was estranged. In more ways than one, I have always experienced the sensation of ill belonging. I have never fully embraced that which so many others follow. My attention and careful eye was always looking somewhere different.

Often, I wished to be like the masses. That seemed easier in a sense. Later, and of course after much punishment to my own self, I realized it was far easier to be the lone wolf than a wolf among sheep. Sheep get rattled easily when wolves are present, and I do, honestly get that. However, with that understanding comes the next sense of knowing, if I am a wolf then where is my mate.

Some journeys, are life long feats. Those feats are the exact ones that toughen our mind, sharpen our teeth and prepare us for battles ahead. I can’t say, I wasn’t grateful. If not for these spirit hardening obstacles, one could assume, and certainly myself, I would not have made it thus far to even have the remote opportunity to write about it. It was, without question, those beatings that served as a survival tactic in my youth. Simply put, I had been put here without my mate, and I was in desperate search.

If, what I felt existed, then I was meant to find it. I knew I was searching for something. At times, I wasn’t fully sure what that ‘something’ was. I only knew I had been and was, groomed for that moment.

There were times, of course, I thought to myself that it was all a figment of my imagination. That everything I felt was nothing more than fantasy behind a silly dreamers eyes. A sleepless dream, yearning to break free and become as real as was the wooden boy, Pinocchio. I told myself I was crazy, delusional, and even insane to have such ideas. Yet, I always had something manifest right in front of me, reminding me of my path. Atleast, enough of a reminder to keep me looking, that is.

Survival tactics taught by the almighty Universe, have lasting scars. They steal the most innocent parts of you, to only chew them up and spit them at your feet. They beat upon your spirit in ways, not even a fist can do to purple flesh. There is of course the one hit you remember most.

That one horrible blow, the one that hits so hard, it sucks all the air from your lungs. And, for a moment you can’t be for certain, but it’s possible, this, is what it feels like to die. Your credible thoughts slip from your mind as quickly as did your breath. The only thing happening inside that deafening silence is the natural instinct to fight. And, it’s there in that milla second, that your spirit decides if it will try to breath or succomb. I am not even sure if the decision is conscious or merely one made for us by creator, but I can say this. That blow, is the very one that marks your soul with a heavy, burdensome, mark.

There will never be another moment I will be free of knowing what it is to have your spirit broken. As is the graceful spirit of a wild stallion set free upon this earth, to then be caught, corralled and whipped until the last of his spirit, his fight, has drained away. A spark dies out.

Hopelessness, often fills that cavernous void. It reeks such havoc. The darkness swims around you and even then it’s troublesome to locate the light. But, even then, broken and without, something calls to you. It whispers your name, beckoning you on. It knows your suffering and yet it still finds your beauty worthy enough to yet still, call to you.

I never liked my reins, nor did I like the fences. I longed to be free, but not just of these chains, free of the pain, so burned inside me. I would fight, but this time, I would fight without the fear of dying, because I had already experienced that. I fought now, for that one chance that if I were free, I might find what still called to me. My spirit, my soul, although broken, wasn’t too ugly for whatever called to me. I knew, without a compass nor a star in the sky, that I, must, find it.

Escape comes with a great price, there are sacrifices to be made and often they are ones I had wished I could have spared, but none is the sacrifice if it weren’t exactly that. As I have lived a thousand lives inside one, I have walked many miles, down desolate roads. I have twisted my way through endless labyrinths, turning this way and that until I found myself right where I started. I slept a million, sleepless and dreamless nights, under a blanket of stars, that just might would have told me their secrets, if only I had known how to read them.

I was close to giving up, I wanted to. I wanted to close the door on anything I had ever imagined to be true. I wanted to burn the book of anything I believed to be real and simply evolve into a character I had created. And, I was doing so with great effort, but yet still, I felt it. I could hear it, just ever so lightly, but it was there. The whisper, then my name, calling on me.

At first, I was confused by it. I even thought what I heard and what I needed to do, where two separate things. When in fact, they were the same exact thing.I could not fully embrace what I was, who I was because in those moments, I wasn’t fully aware, although it would come soon enough.

The power, the true strength of the flame came from whence I stated what I wanted and then let it go. This time, it was my voice he heard, whispering the call. Unbeknownst even to myself, I had beckoned the flame with undeniable power. The desire to reunite with its truest self, it’s most natural form was beyond any other. In that moment, he, my mate, my twin flame, awnsered the call.

There is nothing short of cosmic in this union. No, it’s not literal explosions of galactic partials floating around in space, but, it is something powerfully moving. So moving, that one must try, as difficult as it is and comprehend what it means for the Universe to right itself.

It is a reversal without actually reversing. It’s becoming whole when there are no pieces to fill the spaces. Our eyes, were miraculously washed clean. Birth, death and even the after all became the same. Suddenly, just as swift as was the power in which I stated my desire, the world changed, just as we did.

And, in that way, we were no longer those lone wolves, searching endlessly for the other. We were, ‘one’ complete, being. We were whole and complete, but even greater still, we were free.

There, in our greatest storms, we battled together, knowing one day we could once again, be as we were. One.

3, is nothing, when compared to forever. 11.11 ♥️

Thanks for reading.