A mistress of words recalls a conversation she had with her muse. It’s an indefinable, ethereal, which some say is a lyrical, even mystical, kind of love. The love she wasn’t looking for, never thought she wanted, but once it showed up on her doorstep, she wondered how she ever lived without it.
We were talking over a glass of wine when you asked me if there’ll come a time when I’d grow tired of you.
Of course, I was speechless. How could I? Never my love, never my love, I replied. There isn’t anyone who knows me better than you do. I’d be without passion if not for you, I argued.
But you weren’t listening, and talked over me. You wondered if this heart of mine will lose its desire for you. How could it? How could I? Never my love, never my love, I replied. What makes you think love will end? When you know that my whole life depends on you (on you)? Never my love, never my love, I cried.
I hate when we do.
You left me.
Time moved on.
You do what you do.
I do what I cannot stop doing.
Long ago, I learned to be a writer I had to write with or without you. I love when you are near. You are the flame in the fire, the embers in the ash, the heat in my blood, and a torch song that only I can hear. But with or without you, and in order to survive, I go on. I must. I’ve told you before, it’s more a calling than a choice.
You think I can’t stand on my own. You think that I am weak, fear I’ll change my mind, and I won’t require you. Never my love, never my love, I cried. I tried to convince you there is only you, but how could I? A writer has no magical proof of her love other than to do what she knows how to do, which is to use the gift, the mystical, even lyrical, indefinable, love of words she’s gifted with, and write. It’s the only proof her love is real.
How can you think love will end? When I’ve asked you to spend your whole life with me (with me, with me)? I asked.
It’s not magical, nor is there really a muse, although, in my romantic heart, I choose to believe there is. As for the love, it is ethereal, even lyrical, but mostly it’s mystical.
Do you have a passion for something you never expected to have? How has it shaped your life?