vulcan mind-meld

when open, and given free range, the heart is a miraculous thing. combine that with a keen and inquiring mind, and all sorts of crazy things become possible.

from quite early on in the relationship, the gentleman caller and i enjoyed an eerie mind meld. if he e-mailed, i was reeled to the computer like a marionette drawn up to its handler in the proscenium's rafters. it made no difference if i was working, gardening or soundly sleeping -- * i knew*. if he arrived at my job unannounced, i would turn to the door, *aware* of him, just when he entered. when sleeping apart, we often had bizzarely overlapping dreams or mental wake-up calls caused by actions of the other. even when in vastly separate time zones, with rem's completely whacked by jet-lag, we still crawled through each other's heads. it gave him further power and control over me, so he encouraged it and used it. i thrived under his thumb, so happily succumbed.

in one of his secret e-mails to me after his marital denunciation, he expressed almost boyish wonder at the nascent connection he was growing with his wife. dormant and hidden by many silent hardened layers of anger for more than a decade, he reminded me that they had once been not just physically, but emotionally, intimate as well. (well, duh.) the tentative renewal filled him with hope. he knew he was still able, because of what he had shared with me.

in other writings he has noted her utter frustration at being unable to directly vent her ire at me. that she holds a deep and black desire to punish me. his emotional and psychological self-flagellations, his anguish, not enough. my broken heart and financial devastation don't equate to her needed pound of flesh.

after my last post about the impossibility of attaining restful sleep, i couldn't help but feel my tinfoil hat tighten yet again. i still dream about him. i know with the certainty of my next breath when he posts on-line. my sexual arousal remains inextricably tied to him and his conditionings. is she forcing her way through to me, through him? after all, he didn't stop loving me, (nor i him, but that counts for naught...) it simply had to be put aside for the greater good. is her anger, her revulsion, her base wish for my ruin now storm-trooping through my aching tired head?

he showed me nearly anything was possible. i've always believed hate can be a more powerful force than love. shame she'll never see the results of her enmity.