An Open Letter of Joyful Pain and Painful Joy

Subject: An Open Letter of Joyful Pain and Painful Joy
From: The Woman That Was Your Mistress
Date: 3 Jun 2020

Dearest Archangel,

As I delve into the deepest and darkest roots of my core, I simply can not grasp ‘the moment’. There's always a moment - a single peak of seeming clarity that usurped my soul and plastered my mind. It’s manipulative and its power was to create a disillusionment that falsely empowered me into believing that I was a strong willed person, capable of making responsible decisions for my own “adulthood”. “I can do this, I can either submit to this treachery, or I can resist and reject this. It’s not a big deal. It’s not as though I’m weak, I’ve never been weak before, why would I start now?”, it tricked me. I assume a similar process consumed my Archangel too. Well, I assumed a lot of things. I believed that we were the same, synchronised in thought, in senses, in lust… in love.

“I’m in love!”... the extenuity at which my eyes have rolled back into my head to this expression over the years, I’m surprised they still rotate. Nodding politely at my friends over the years and laughing in false agreeance. “I’m in love” - what an absolutely stupid declaration. A declaration for the most simple minded women of all the women. Women - a woman like me bound without apparent choice.

Of course an Archangel is admired, adored and yearned for by others. Even the angels flutter at your feet, let alone mortals on earth that surround you. It would only make utter sense and rationale that such a masculine treasure was already pledged by another woman. Despite your allegiance to another, we welcomed one another into our graces and created our own allegiance, with the single operative objective - to soar through each other’s humanity with nothing other than veritable, passionate love. The laws of his traditional courtship to another did not impinge upon us, because that was on earth. Whereas, our love? Our love prospered above the heavens, protected by the ancient Greek gods.

Living as the Archangel that served the grand Greek God of love, Eros, it was with ease that you organically lured me into a utopia of love and intimacy without a hint of restraint from me. Through such gentle valour, you facilitated an infinite trust and loyalty from me that was foreign to me in this world. My faith in your guardianship of not just my physical body, but the intangible - my soul, my energy, even my aura - how was this humanly possible? Oh, that’s right. This was the art of your Mythology.

Despite my desperate efforts to reintegrate into the traditional dating scene amongst simpletons, they were no match for you the Greek keeper of my heart. The fact that I maintained that these men were imbeciles, was indicative of the truth - I wasn’t a sexy temptress that led you to abscond from your traditional courtship. You were the one diviner who spread yourself as a single resource. You allocated which parts of yourself and how much you preferred to attendant to disposal and convenience. All whilst, receiving the entirety of the souls, bodies and minds of all of your collective minions. It is only the Greek Archangel that receives the unabridged and wholeness of others, whilst lackeys such as myself are to be grateful for what we receive, only if and when he awards us. And we are to say, ‘Thank you, Archangel. You sustain my life with your presence. Do as you wish, and I shall obey”.

Being the strong, independent, self-made, modern woman that I believed I was, I coerced myself into believing that severing communication with the Archangel was unnecessary, excessive and childish. After all, we had shared a remarkable connection with one another and a decent amount of time in each other's spiritual and emotional company. To drastically void myself of you would imply that I was incapable of living without him. Surely I couldn’t entertain such a thing and suggest that he was a necessity in my life.

“It’d be cruel to disregard you. It would be uncompassionate to act as though our shared love was an accessory” I lied to myself. I clung onto this notion of false empathy of you for dear life, too afraid to admit that it was I, who needed you. The sweet scent of your sweat when we gave our bodies to one another, the warmth of my blushing cheeks when you smirked at me, the feeling of the crisp grass when we were in awe of the dazzling sky those Spring nights - these were treasures that the Greek gods and Archangel had validated us with because they appreciated us. It would be disrespectful had I rejected them forever, right?

Lamenting the dissolve of ‘us’ had been exhausting as I grieved the absence of you, yet I do not lay my head down each day in regret. Allowing such a conqueror of love to envelop me completely was a privilege that I am grateful to have received. It was completed swiftly as I was already yours from the genesis of our meeting. I am uplifted when I think of his inevitable fortune as you prospurs through life, and thankful that the gods would send such a champion of the heavens to me.

Each evening I shut my eyes to see you the Archangel of love in my mind. The darker that my vision is, the better - that way I can picture you most vividly. My imagination becomes a hallmark of our memories, and suddenly it is his light I see that helps me sleep at night.

You brought me through months of both joyful pain and painful joy. The hurt was uncontrollable and scattered as I obsessed over every second that could have been a potential priceless moment with you. The days were long but the nights were even longer as thoughts of being without you infiltrated my mind and brought my nightmares to life. How could the ghost of a lost angel haunt the body of a devil such as myself? After all, I was the mistress. How could love as a concept, as a construct, as a virtue, as a value at all in this universe be hurting so many people at the same time? How could something so beautiful be so ugly? How could something so generous be so selfish? How could something that made me so happy, be so unkind? How could something I never believed to be real, become the foundation for my survival?

The truth hit me - It was all a web of lies you fed me to believe it was love. I am no victim to this, for I allowed it all to happen. I had allowed the epitome of Joyful Pain to get the better of me.

I, that trapped you with my own greed have relinquished you to spread your eminence with others. And forever you will soar, as immortal angels never die.

No Real Love Lost Archangel.