Over the years, I've come to understand ‘her.’ And so I should, considering she allures all that I am.
Before I could know love, I had to know surrender. I struggled with that. I would reach out to her like she was something I could have. Heartbreak ensued. However, she would always reappear with a new face, as a new partner, teaching me something I never knew about myself. One thing I learnt was that I could communicate with her internally by quieting my ego; that I never needed a woman to feel love. That was the first act of surrender, of self-love, which in turn provided the basis to love a woman. As a heterosexual man, this knowledge is imperative. Sexually, I am driven to interact, connect and translate my soul to any woman who captures my heart. Though if I cannot do this while in an honest relationship with myself, my anima, then what hope would I have for love? Thankfully, I have had a passion for truth ever since the lies I misled myself to believe were made conscious through rigorous self-work practices.
So as I write this, I do so in love. I do so as I can gaze in wonder at the embodiment of love walking towards me. Serene, warming; I can appreciate this fragile moment of unspeakable beauty.