Regarding Us: The Question on Oneness

The other night, I tortured myself. I sat and read through love letters—love emails, to be historically sensitive—from a few years ago. My First-in-a-Lifetime and I exchanged Pablo Neruda-like sentiments. Our words, with their candor and syrupy goodness, would have loosened the most impenetrable heart.

The love shack that had no windows or doors he and I built, 2X4 by 2X4, was just for us. It was a safe haven where us could both take off our cool and just be. He could dream without ridicule, and I could be weak without fear of being taken advantage of. It was the perfect hideaway for us both.

When us’d sneak away to our wonderland, our home away from home, the real world faded with the sun behind the lake. No one else mattered but us and the penetrating, metaphysical connection that magnetized our “I”s to “us.” His breath was mine. My heartbeat was his. Us invaded one another’s heart spaces and left with pieces of the other’s mind. Only these human bodies with flesh swaddled in light brown skin defrauded us of becoming one.

What us shared was mystical, exclusively just for us. Now it’s over and has been for a while. But instead of arresting at mourning what was on my sojourn backwards, I tripped on an email I sent him one morning and haven’t been able to erase the words from the theater of my mind since. This is the email in its entirety:

I’m on the plane, watching the passengers board after me. Some of them look like they have a lot on their minds. Others look annoyed. Some look lost–dazed and confused. Others look like they’re simply going through the motions. Life is in constant motion. Maybe that’s why. Very few of them look happy. Nobody, in fact, looks peaceful or joyful. They look like some of life’s victims. I wonder if I look like any of these folks. I don’t want to.

I’m ready.

All of me.

I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been looking more and more like life’s victim than the one who makes her (life) come alive. I wonder if I was really ready for what I thought I was, and if I’m any closer to ready now than I was back then. Us is beautiful but one is prime, its own square, cube … it’s the perfect number. But what does that mean?

All of the questions, few of the answers.


~ by MsInklination on August 21, 2012.

One Response to “Regarding Us: The Question on Oneness”

  1. Ahhh, tugging at the strings of our hearts and making the gears of our mind turn. I dig it.

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