I’m Half a Man

by HelluvaGirl

The Book says: a man is the spiritual, wise, guiding element. A woman is the earthly, materialist, grounded one. It is manifested in both our bodily functioning and our aspirations.

You write like a man. Don’t you stop now

Genius once told me, being the first one to take a glimpse at my literary attempts.

You’re half a man

they’d say sometimes when I would display lack of sentiment or fragility.

As much as I create, think, observe, limit my bodily needs, I might be getting closer to that dimension where there’s no gender at all, where we are all people, then souls, then sparks of light, then the endless sea of Love. At least I dare to hope so, ever-thanking God for my perception and other gifts I’ve been bestowed on.

We have those encounters in life that bring out our very essence, show us the core of our nature and it’s never skin-deep – it rips off the immaculate curtain of our self-presentation. It tears down our convictions about how the world is supposed to go round. It makes us raw, naked, real. Sometimes it leaves us startled with the findings.

Our encounter has made the spiritual side of me flash bright, and I thought it would only be the upper chakras going disco-light from then on.

What I’m finding is my earthly nature displaying itself in a manner that does not allow being ignored.

You are the most miraculous, uplifting, purifying experience that I’ve ever had. And it also bears the most terrible, humiliating and heartbreaking aftermath I could imagine.

And it is not all. The part I’m still refusing to accept is that it will not end. Not in this life, not afterwards.

As much as I get off spiritually writing about you, I can’t deny the times I swing back and forth shaking in sobs, wet chest-down from my own tears because that female element in me screams all the spiritual connections can go to hell if I can’t be with you in every way. I beg good fate to face us and I pray to deserve the greatest gift – looking into your eyes every day, giving you the best of me, making you happy with all I’ve been given, taking the honour of walking next to you through every challenge and misery if it’s in our cards – but together

I also think: what if I offered the Universe a sacrifice? Like trading my “depth” to a chance of earthly happiness with you? I would never get back to my secret catacombs where truths and realities co-exist and where I take off my stiff humane attributes to rest; where my self sloughs personal experience and gets impregnated with a more universal feel of things that later translates into words you love to read? What if I gave away everything that sparks the pride in me?

I know: you keep saying we are together and will always be.

The man in me gets it.

I’m half a man.