My Cosmic Love Affair

She was just his guardian.

But she loved him so, like every inch of his soul had been derived from her,

like every breath that he took had been encoded into her,

like time had no meaning in the world she shared with him.

He was the anomaly she had been searching for, all her years.

And she loved him so, her cherub that he was.

She found respite in the simplest of notions. Love for her was to bathe him, tend to his every need,

survive through his various moods and rejoice in the strength with which he soared. All of those simple things in life that made her happiness.

But he was needed, she was told, to make some other world whole.

The music of no harp could bring her wings to flight.

The angel became a mere flower in the garden of heaven,

her essence lost in the quagmire of humanity,

sentenced to an eternity of love lost.

Days were spent living his dreams, the little fetus in his new home,

twisting his head around the reality that was now his; nights spent her. Until no longer the rime of that fallen angel seeping through each flower could be contained, until no longer the skies could mimic the frigid mist that shrouded her, until a time she lost her sanity.

By the gates of heaven,

she stood with the heaviest of heart that only love could ever explain, and begged to be his air,

his water or his soil. Not an eternity anymore, just a life time if be. Her wings could be spared if only she could hold him again.

Needs and wants at conflict, the SHE in him and the HE in she, found no reason to condemn the blasphemy of HIS own making and let her be.

Born under a different star, born under the crimson sun, born she was to fulfill a destiny that SHE herself writ under a golden moon, writ to be, writ to find , writ for love, HER truth personified.

In the world they were in, love had all sorts of meaning.

It was a noun, a verb, an adjective and a curse all at the same time.

She was baffled by humans, how they construct a harsh mirage around a simple truth.

What made her sad was that he was carried away by that lie. She could not fathom to have him live with that depth in his despair. She could never see him hurting.

He was alas, the reason to her being. A love pure, a love unadulterated. The sun to her stars, the answer to all her questions, the pain of her falling, the redemption of her grace, the lighting to her storm, the element of her search, her gateway back to heaven. He made her whole, he made her HER.

And that’s why it was so easy to fall, so easy to touch, so natural to understand you, my love.

This is what happens when destinies are met.

This is what happens when you find the other half.

Peace, my love, the peace you provide in every piece of your breath,

every word from your mouth, every inch of your being.

Love, then, was realised.

Like he is an astronaut delving into the depths of the universe. The universe I house between my lips. That’s how he kisses me. My little cherub, him. My soul for him, aches thus, as the sail aches for the wind, as the question aches for an answer. The ache that survives without pain. The ache that lives even when all else is gone.

The ache of love

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