Love letter # 452
What, in the midst, seems hellish, will sometimes be revealed as deliverance. Thus it was with us. A journey into conflict that, in its denouement, yielded more than mere catharsis. In fire we saw, truly, that which was burnt. Which required burning.
Did we tear ourselves apart – make ourselves anew with the scatterlings? Were we the fissile material of necessary explosion? From this ledge of calm it now seems so. We are lighter by the weight of ruptured burden.
Our union will doubtless be cast as foolish by those who are not privy to the aftermath. What we discovered in drama and turmoil serves us well in grateful separation. I am glad you took your knife to my bone. You tore the skin off lies. Now I can breathe. Now I go well.
And you? I see you in flight and am likewise uplifted. Who would have thought – wings wrought from rock, plenty from penury? Yes, we took the long way round but what we spied along the way were the landmarks of nascent release. Now I honour the cell of our sorrows, for it has shown us the promise of joy.