The First Cut Is The Deepest
“I run for my life: knife in hand, crazy eyes, he’s out for blood! His shrill voice screams: “I’ll kill you, you fucking bastard!”. “Murder in Suburbia!” reads the tabloids’ headlines at the supermarket : ‘Hunted to Death by Jealous Father!”
How insane does your life has to get before you figure there is something deadly wrong with it? Is running like a clueless ‘victim’ a sign or just a sad turn of the wheels of fate?
How many ways does it take?
As I write I am listening to Rod Stewart’s epic album: “A Night On The Town”. Here it is so you get the full flavor of this post.
Snake in the grass
Hours passed as we share stories. A humongous screen paints the wall with muscular hulks chasing a citrus shaped ball. The crowd cheers in a frenzy. We found in the back a more quiet, private table. Having just met electricity shoots between our eyes. A shining spark about to set ablaze a bonfire of passion.
Escaping the “Rah Rah Rah Hooplas!” we set out in the darkened park as the midnight moon peered down. The warm, sweaty night melted our bodies into one as we savoured kissing lips. Laying on the ground, blind lust unzipped zips and unbuttoned buttons. We drifted on a cloud, alone, in our ecstasy, or were we?
“Crack!” snapped a branch. He drew closer. He had been sitting there for always, the voyeur. He now wanted more than a front row seat of our embrace. Paralysed, helpless, I held my breath. I painfully inched my body to a more honorable position. Zips got zipped, button got buttoned. It was over.
We became lovers. Never again were we to fall such an insane situation.
Super Nova Cinders
As I read her palm a New Universe opened. So much power, so much depth; she has the soul of an Angel. I share my vision of life, of open relationships and universal love. She invites me to sleep over, of sharing her bed adding as a footnote “no sex” . Tempted, I decline. Work calls early next morning. She leaves town in a few days so we plan to meet again.
The sky is a velvet of blue and orange as the sun sets aflame the horizon. Kilometers away from the crowds we drink in the wonders of the National Park. Our communion is intense as we hold each other. We walk in silence, in full rapture, the wind caressing our cheeks. I desire a kiss, an embrace. I pull her close. She gently pushes me away. I insist and she burst into tears. I freeze in shock! What just happened?
I apologize as we talk about what had just taken place. She shares horror stories from her high school years. It hurts me that such a beautiful soul had to live through so many hells. The mood changes as we get to understand each other. She feels passion welling up inside and wishes to kiss. We stop the car and unite in timeless moments of peace, the last instants before she takes her final leave.
Days later I received a love box full of poems, drawings, books and a teddy bear. Weeks turns into months, back and forth pure tantric love morphs into acidic hate and then back to angelic bliss. Non-exclusive relationships are tearing her apart.
Dying to be herself
Her parents forbids that she stays overnight. She was all of 21 and I had graduated from art school. I was 24. I enjoyed a few beers with her dad at their summer BBQs. Life was good as I was discovering a first serious relationship.
The following weekend her parents left for a 3 day trip to the country. Home alone, we plan a lover’s “honeymoon”. To finally be together as if there was no tomorrow! And so we were, drifting in the middle of a hot summer night, the breeze so right on our nude bodies, sharing milk and cookies in the living room. And then the door bangs wide open.
My mother said it was obviously a trap. At 2 am the phone rang. As she picked it up “Mother-in-law to be” vomits insults for giving birth to a Devil’s spawn, while “Dad” is hunting me down with a kitchen knife. As I escape for my life I asked myself “Why does my love life always turns into shit?”
I wish, just only once…
I never saw my parents together. Not even once. Being a typical tie wearing workaholic of the 50’s my father was rarely home. I was 12 when the divorce finalized. It was already too late. I guess they might have waited that I finished primary school, or maybe mom just had enough. She pulled the papers on him, and went as far as writing to the Pope to have the marriage annulled.
They taught me hatred and criticism for each other. My dad had to honk his car horn to get my siblings and I down for our regular Sunday restaurant outing. He wasn’t to set foot into our home ever again. They never came together for any birthdays or Christmas’ celebrations. Being the only one who married out of four children, I was forced to choose which parent could assist our wedding. It broke my heart to tell the other off.
I never saw them holding hands, talking or sharing stories. I never learned to recognize emotions or expressing feelings, asking others for their point of view or acknowledging their differences. Love was a thing you earned conditionally according to “right conduct”, and by getting top grades. Tears weren’t allowed, no complaining was to be voiced and sexuality never existed.
From no love to full love
Learning to love again has been hazardous, with many mistakes and pitfalls. Having gone through these challenges often the questions have been: “Are my beliefs about relationships and sexuality just the “Ill-After-Effects” of being sexually abused and my education, or are they rooted in something much deeper?” and “Do I have to explain and justify every preference I show?”
I never “believed” in marriage, and I still can’t relate to it today. What does Love have to do with exclusivity and ownership? MY wife, MY car, MY kids… and even if not wed MY partner? Through history there has been varied configurations of “Unions” and sadly deceit and jealousy still manifests. The statistics about divorce, cheating and lying are through the roof. There is no more room for the elephant!
My values are about honesty, respect and commitment. I would rather die before wilfully hurting another being. My heart discovered it’s true nature in Guatemala, and what I always felt inwardly as “Grok” is the ever present as Universal Love I practice. I fall in love as a polyamory and non dual relationship/lover where consensual, ethical, and responsibility are the basis of any communion.
Life is just amazing
I recognize in the above love stories one common element: We talked a lot, but we didn’t expressed of our wishes and desires. We gave away our past but we didn’t share our present.
We gave away our past but we didn’t share our present.
My parents were locked away in their respective pasts; they never could share any “present” with their children. The same with my abusers : they had to relive over and over again what had been done to them. I really feel sad for all of them. Life is so amazing, it is a ‘present’ in all the meaning of the word.
Life is just so amazing, each of you is a ‘present’! I wish that you find your love and live your life in the present moment at it’s fullest!
Knowing each one of you is what makes my life so rich and precious.
Life is a present, and living in the present is the most beautiful gift of all!
I love you all
If telling my story can offer a beacon of hope to those who are locked away behind dark walls of protection, then I feel I have started to accomplish my task.
Guy Giard is a speaker and the author of the upcoming book ‘LOVE’s healing journey’ How to Triumph over life’s adversities.