Yellow StarThistle

He was simply the most beautiful creature I had ever heard or seen in my life. I can compare him to none I have met before or since.

His voice reached the interior of my soul first. It was perfect. No accent, no nasal quality, but pure, manly deep but not overly so, like a perfect merlot- full, mellow, with notes of music and romance. The mere sound of his voice wrapped and filled me with comfort and bliss.

His skin was flawless, ringlets behaved in his precisely cut hairstyle, his Italian nose was both classic and perfection, teeth straight and bright, a smile so warm and welcoming one couldn’t help but feel taken in by it. The dimple I discovered when he smiled and the closely trimmed beard which was beginning to turn white made me come completely undone. He was absolutely divine.

Acutely aware of his infectious charm he perched behind a casual façade- as if to dim some of his own brilliance.  His self confidence was mesmerising. 
He carried it within him the way a mother carries a new babe in the womb- surely and deeply. His glow was undeniable.

He didn’t walk into a room like other people do, he was fluid, I would almost say he glided. There was nothing ungainly about his steps or his movements. Everything he did, from opening the car door, to washing a dish, to cooking a turkey was done in such a way I would have sworn it had been rehearsed. Never once did I see him flustered or shaken. Even in dealing with a hysterical woman, he was calm and unruffled. He was ever as tranquil and beautiful as a still lake at sunrise.

I loved him urgently, swiftly, and completely, though I was warned, “That man will break your heart.” I paid no heed, but a minuscule seed of worry was sown into my inner core and quickly forgotten. A seed, much like a weed, which began to take deep roots before I ever noticed its tiny shoots on the surface of my garden heart.  That weed much like kudzu, was impossible and fruit less.

He made love to me like I was the only woman in existence. I felt I was his angel, yet knowing full well I am much closer to the type described as Hobbit folk. The passion, the laughter, the shared stories and the way we reveled in each other was sublime. Our time together was too short. One of us was always having to leave, and the distance between us was bothersome and painful to me, but he took it all in stride. I took his self-confidence to mean he was sure of us, of our connection. Our interactions were not casual...though there were languid moments of delight, and sparkling ones of laughter.

His gifts were utterly unique, thoughtful, and timely. A jar with favorite chocolates and hand written love notes for my birthday.  Flowers for my arrival- pink, my favorite color rose. Music filled his house. Beloved tunes of his previous life, and new ones picked out for me. Dancing for no reason-except to dance and hold the person you love closely. Sunsets and moonlight and shooting stars were ours, and nothing was impossible when I was with him. No harm would come to me while in his embrace.

And then…

In one fell swoop I lost him. My divine being withdrew his wings and pulled away swiftly…almost as swiftly as I fell in love with him. A responsibility as big as keeping the moon in orbit fell upon him; and while fearless in his new role, he was unable to hold on to me. With grace, yet determination, he cut the tie he’d bound me with- never suspecting he’d also severed the cords of my heart.

I bled profusely. I wept like a little lost child in the middle of dirty Calcutta. I crumpled and fell to the ground like a used Kleenex, and my world was filled with searing pain. I searched my heart. Was there no way I could assist? No use for me in his new role? Couldn’t I remain attached as a cheerleader, or a bringer of dinner or flowers?

Ahhh…flowers. 
As I looked inwards- there it was, the Weed. 
It was so big and thorny and overgrown there was room for little else. It grew with rapid speed and complete destruction without the divine to keep it in check. It stood tall and stared back at me when I faced it. Internally she towered over me. She was as frightening as my lover had been beautiful. 

Without eyes and tilting her yellow head somehow she smirked at me.

Her words echoed in my gut, “That man will break your heart”.