Last week, I was lured into an old song that I had forbidden myself to play until now. It reminded me of my naivety, how I could allow myself to float away in love and paint a portrait of two (but it wasn’t true).

I deeply buried that past a decade or so ago, but the song appeared in my feed, and I was famished to eat. Is it my junk food or a Thanksgiving meal? I missed that hunger (that crazy cosmic timing) of seeing our connection tied. I didn’t understand it then, but I think it was just me manifesting, and the universe just gave in!

Time has healed me, and I’m no longer embarrassed by my romantic cunning imaginary lies. It’s what’s given me hope to remove the “ordinary” film imposed on lenses of love, what got me through, and what helped me feel vibrant and thrive (even if it wasn’t seen by others from the outside).  I’m no longer fraught into thinking I was tragically misaligned, for it didn’t transcend in the end, it wasn’t heaven-sent, so I guess heaven does know best 

So, it was a surprise to see the date the song was recorded live, my goodness I was there when the universe began to approach me. A miraculous concertgoer offered me a free ticket out of the blue when Pluto had taken most of our belongings away (not long after 2008). The year my marriage was slowly unraveling while my soul sought authenticity, it created a divide between what society deems divine and how the divine corrects the blind. 

Although I wish I could’ve avoided a failed marriage, as he’ll point out, it “was on me” for wanting to be on my own. We were acquaintances who once liked the same things, but that is far from true now.  I mastered my humility and allegiance to leaning into “what might be,” or at least brave enough to look ignorant and daft, but I sought what I didn’t understand and where I felt my heart lacked.  “For every question, there is an answer” as the song goes.

I am much better for the lesson in marriage and searching for authentic love, although I FELL HARD like a bowling ball dropped from the clouds to land like a thud. I can see now that I landed on a soft patch of organic dirt, and I’ve grown and sprouted after all. Don’t waste time agonizing over taking chances; you might find that you organized it all.

-ES