It seems that the number three keeps coming up lately...
Awhile back I got a message after I'd made some modifications towards a profile. It was powerful.
"You seem very interesting. But I'm sad that you only used to believe in things like hope, altruism, and potential. Hopefully you can meet someone or come across some inspiring circumstances that change that."
The message was sent last month on June 1st at 12:27 AM. June 1st... the day that would be forever inspiring and sad in many ways... the day I would find out about Jess*...
This stranger making reference to some thoughts scribbled out on a board requesting validation likely didn't know how much he was affecting me. He probably didn't realize just how much that all of this all meant and stung and chimed in a wondrous beat. But there it was... in shining form. One heart beat after another.
I'm not going to respond to that message there although there is poetry littered in that presence as well:
"One of the ancient maps of the world is heart-shaped, carefully draw and once washed with bright colors, though the colors have faded as you might expect feelings to fade from a fragile old heart, the brown map of a life. But feeling is indelible, and longing infinite, a starburst compass pointing in all the directions two lovers might go, a fresh breeze swelling their sails, the future uncharted, still far from the edge where the sea pours into the stars."
It's a beautiful tale. A very beautiful tale in it's own right.
And then there's the threes.
What I found in the fault with the one I called Stars was three key things among others.
My profile on an online place references some of these elements in a distanced manner. It mentions the importance of believing in these things. It mentions that I no longer believe in them and that I find words to be a construct. Because they are. They are freeing and they are constructs.
I remember a memory of these things. A memory of many. I remember how these things were there and beautiful and given freely. How they were talked about fluidly. How it was ok to believe in.
The idea that giving back is about selfless concern for the well being of someone else.
When Stars gave, there was something he got back the whole time. It was interesting as he would say that he gave so much for me. He did help out quite a bit. He said he helped more than he did with his marriage in many ways.
And I ache and cry at the thought of it.
This person who said there was no such thing as altruism... that was so frustrated and thinking that his efforts were not appreciated despite so many times saying that they were...
The notion that there is something good on the horizon to fight for.
I thought in the back of my being that despite the pain, there was that little bit of sparkle on the horizon. That it exists in everything. But that idea is just that: an idea. It's a fictitious idea that it will eventually level out. It's a beautiful thing. At the same time, like altruism, it's also not real.
The belief that there is a diamond under that rough.
All three of these things fall in line. They're all the same imaginary tale. Potential is nothing more than idea linked to hope. Altruism is the good that resides without having any payout. But there's always a transaction. In everything. But then there were the bigger things...
They make the other three, even as ideas, invisible. They make me remember that part of me... the missing part where friends have told me is missing and has been missing for some time.
It's that fire.
It's that trifecta.
It's that calm comfort of a warm piece of sunlight popping out behind a cloud that just hugs your face.
It has no reason to do so.
It just is.
That's the part that I miss the most.
That part that is buried under all the rubble.
The independent free piece... loved once or many times or none at all... no matter what the cost.
And hopefully it comes to the light more once again.
Hopefully today is the day I will gain that Independence once and multiple times again.