My Writings

The One Who Was Promised

Artwork: Antonia Avramova

You are what life was meant to be. You are absolute freedom. Your being vibrates with the promise of Paradise, but Eden can wait. As long as your head rests upon my shoulder, I will not ask for ascension.

You are the time that I was never given. Time – to find myself, to stand up and to pursue all that is good and worthwhile in this transient world. Your presence is inviting, infinite, perfect. An embodiment of the youth that was promised to us all, but few ever get. A dream romanticized, transfigured into a living being.

When I peel yet another layer of stupidity from my face, you are there to reassure me that I have outgrown myself. As a proud man, it is strange to me to learn that there was a time when I was ignorant, that there was something that I could not predict, that I was not prepared to breathe in the fear of living and to breathe out a satisfaction from being here that cannot be expressed in words. It is strange to find out that I have not truly lived, that I have merely existed. You are here to teach me how to live.

When I entered the sacred garden, I knew that I have been here before. And I have known you – before the dawn of the world, before we were separated. In the absence of time and space, I admired your beauty. Even now it radiates from your being – after all the suffering that we were through.

You are the one who completes me.

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