The rain fell with passion late into the evening and Salomè danced, she danced with her sadness, she danced with her anger, she danced with a heavy heart and a mind full of melancholy. She decided to journal her thoughts as she sipped wine, that seemed like a good pairing. she grabbed her favorite pen and put it to paper, she wrote:
“In my world of utter Wonderment of all things Mother Nature, of the Universe, of the Sun and the Moon, I chose…
I chose to sit with the Moon and inquire, was it in the morning when the Sun opened his eyes?
or was it in the early evening when he, the Sun, began his descent to wake you, my amazing Moon? Was it then that things began to change?
Please tell me, in what warm breeze of mine? In what cold, crisp wind of his did our story end before it ever truly began? and why in the in-between of our love story, must my heart bleed and my soul drown in the velvety vermillion of it all?”
Salome gave a half smile and a half frown as her lips quivered as she penned her thoughts because Everything, Everything always returned to him. She stopped writing and walked over to the bay window to watch the sun set and leaned against the window pane, babysitting like two sips of Merlot. Thoughts of conversations, of the laughter, of the nights they drank a bottle of wine without even realizing it and how he, with his eyes, caressed her face as he listened, as she spoke. Salome felt the goosebumps cover her body as her nipples hardened, almost painful, and how the moisture and heat emanating from her divine castle was all she could handle at this moment.
She whispered, the euphoria of you was just about dissipated then, like slut magic you re-appeared,… at my favorite spot in the park. All of my work of letting you go was unravelled, it floated away, in the wind, quietly. I answered, abandoning all my reserves as you, my past, returned. I did not listen to the voice of reason until the Spirit crashed and the heart shattered.
The journaling turned into a letter:
Querido Gonzalo,
It's hard to understand that we spend half our lives chasing things that hurt us and much harder to understand the time spent trying to undo the disappointment. It is difficult to know that you're not looking for me, that you remember me intermittently, only. You and I sat on your balcony one evening, and I asked you to let me go. I confessed that I would not do it and that you had to, Remember? What I didn't say was that I had fallen in love with you. You asked me why? You asked, are we not compatible? I smiled and said - This is the problem, we are too compatible. I failed to express my emotions, I failed to open up my most rawest and vulnerable self - and this is when my spirit knew that I had to let you go yet, the heart wanted to stay, so the mind decided to carry on, as if curious to see how far we'd go. I was afraid, afraid to ask you, Do you love me? or do you love me not? Nothing was said. Do you remember? It's hard to understand our season, we were the right love at the wrong time, at least I believed this to be true. Oh how I loved you, how I continue to love you. No rhyme or reason just a "sewn into the tapestry of my soul type of love" silly right? I come from a coven of Gladiator Warriors, the ones that believe in the love that many will never comprehend, the coven of women who give and rarely receive. I am chaotic, creative and expansive. I am love and my love is erratic. I would never attempt to erase you or the time we had for this would erase the wisdom I have gained in my today. I remember the lessons, the lessons of you. I would spend hours wanting to know what you were doing then came the knowing of your disinterest towards me, and this was poison. Since our time together I have missed you. I have lost sleep over you. I have fallen into a dark abyss of the many "Why's?". I have cried, oh so many tears. I have smiled as memories of you danced across my thoughts. I have acknowledged that I loved you. I end this letter as I end this chapter, "Te estoy soltando de a poquito cada noche, en gotitas saladas." Siempre, Salome.
Salome went back to the window to witness the beauty of the Fierce, Fiery, and Dedicated Sun as it bid adieu to the day, she confessed her love for this particular time of day, for she says it is when the sun gently, with the warmest of rays, caresses & kisses her body goodnight, and with that, she called it a night.
Magically Orgasmic 