All My Truths & One Lie

by Fabiola Francisco

  I shiver as I repeat the mantra, my eyes closing for a beat longer than a normal blink. It’s time to release the role of secret keeper and live for myself.

  It’s amazing how as soon as you make a choice that is for your highest good it manifests. When I decided I was no longer living for others or in the protection of others, I saw the shift, free of time limitations or deadlines. Quickly, too.

  After I left Makenna yesterday, I went home and burned the letter, placing the ashes on the soil in the garden below my apartment. Talking to her and writing as self-expression instead of forced words of how I think they should be released a huge weight.

  When we become open, aware, and trusting, the universe unstitches, thread by thread, the stitching that traps our self-sabotage. It allows us to peel away the old cloths that cover our bodies so we may look within and heal.

  I close my eyes and visualize my grandfather before me. I blink them open after a few seconds, still not fully capable of staring at him, at his memory. A few deep breaths later, I blink my eyes shut again and visualize his face before I begin to speak in my mind.

  Why, why, why? Why couldn’t you be the person you pretended to be? Or at the very least, be honest. I’d prefer an asshole of a grandfather than a deceitful one. You ruined so much.

  My inhale is strong as it vibrates up my body, the sadness remaining on the shore. I must stop the judgment.

  I don’t need to pretend to be strong.

  Slowly, I blink my eyes, willing the trapped tears to move freely. Soft pain trails my cheeks as the sorrow of a little girl breaks free. My body trembles with the cries, silent and all-consuming, wracking my body front and back. Release.

  Something Makenna told me moves to the front of my mind, as I remember her sad smile as she spoke. “You don’t need to be completely healed to be loved and love. Being in a relationship with someone, a partnership, is part of the healing, therefore, how can we fully heal if we think we’re not good enough for a person? They are a part of our path for that purpose. Maybe with this experience, part of your healing is accepting you are good enough to be loved unconditionally for who you are, good for more than physical contact. You don’t need to give so much of yourself without receiving in return. It’s all about balance. Give yourself permission to receive love and care and someone else’s heart.”

  Experiences mark us, I’ve learned this firsthand, but we have the power over our own lives. I’ve been living with this guilt, with this anger, when I have the choice to release it. It’s just easier said than done. It’s easier to romanticize healing than actually to live it. It’s not as perfect and smooth as it’s expressed. Healing is messy and painful, but once we do, we come out freer and lighter.

  Matthias. I close my eyes and see his smirk sketched on his face. His bright eyes and wavy hair free as he watches me. My chest constricts as I remember his sad smile yesterday as he hopped into his car. When it comes to us, time is an illusion, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like an eternity since I felt his arms hold me tight in the middle of the night and his warm breath melt the ice around me.

  We were born from the same star.

  We were supposed to meet. I let Matthias leave because I was scared of what staying would mean. I allowed my fear rule me, and I let my analytical judgment control what was right and wrong as if such a thing exists. Because of my own pain, I’ve been so miserable and numb that I haven’t supported him. Selfish. I deliberately lost my way.

  Who cares if I still can’t face my grandfather? I’m working on it. I need to be easier on myself, more understanding. I embrace the truths I carry because they’re mine, they’re a part of my path, but I don’t need to let it define me. I can take them as my lessons so I can grow, but ultimately I’m more than the shame, than the pain. I embrace the little girl and move forward with her sans scars. Souls can’t be punctured, only love can fill them. It’s the only thing that truly exists. It’s what the universe is made of, and it heals all. Love isn’t a lie.

  Oh, my God.

  My heart races as I run into my room and throw on sneakers and a sweatshirt. I grab my phone and keys, locking up my apartment and jogging down the stairs. Once outside, I look right and left before heading toward the right, speed-walking.

  I’m wild and erratic as I take the route I barely remember, paying close attention to similar landmarks and street names, swirling through the roads.

  I look around my surroundings, the sun already set, and wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweater.

  Love is a truth.

  Love is a truth.

  Love is a truth.

  I race faster in my search for the cottage in the countryside. The further away I get from the town center the darker the streets become. I turn on the flashlight on my phone and hope my battery holds off until I arrive.

  Shining the light on the street name, I try to jog my memory. If only I had paid more attention when coming this way. I continue in the direction that feels right just as my phone runs out of battery. I curse into the wind but squint my eyes and keep walking. His home is around here, I know it.

  After a few minutes of breathing quickly and being ultra-aware of every detail I can make out under the dark sky, I see the familiar home tucked away in the meadow.

  I wipe my hands on my jeans although it’s a pointless attempt. Only one light illuminates the inside, and I wonder how he’ll react to seeing me here. I loosen my hair from the hair tie and redo my bun as best as I can.

  Building courage, I walk up to the wooden door and knock. The door swings open and wide eyes meet my uncertain ones before a smile sweeps across Matthias’s face.

  “Hello.” He looks over my head to see behind me.

  “Hi.” I give a small wave and shake my head at my own awkwardness.

  “Come in,” Matthias invites me into his home, into his life.

  I smile and walk in, instantly inhaling the scent of wood and spice. The flames from the fireplace draw me in as its warmth comforts me after walking around outside for a good half hour.

  I shake my head when Matthias points to the couch, needing to stand as I speak. He remains standing as well. We’re both silent, staring at each other—my hands tucked into the sleeves of my sweater, his in his jean pockets.

  “Let me start by saying you were right. I was using a façade to protect myself because I’ve felt the need to be stronger for so long. You were right when you said I was hiding behind a mask of indifference and independence when in reality I just want you. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” I shrug, widening my eyes in an attempt to dry my tears enough that I can continue speaking.

  “I’ve been waiting for you for so long I had an internal battle between you being too good to be true and excitement that you were in the flesh. I was afraid of what would happen, yet I couldn’t stop myself from giving you my heart, because you already had it, from lifetimes long ago. But I’ve had people leave me in all ways, even not wanting to, and the little, disappointed girl reminded me of everything I had suppressed. The deaths I never mourned, the disappointments I never processed, the sadness I was still holding on to. I didn’t want you to become one of those. If I lost you…” my voice cracks. I tuck my lips into my mouth, biting down on them.

  Shaking my head, I say, “Losing you would feel as if I lost a piece of myself. We’re separate people; however, our connection is so . . . I can’t formulate my thoughts right now. I’m sorry.” I turn around and pace, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my sweater and my face with the other one. Matthias gives me the time I need to regroup.

  “I can’t carry bullshit anymore. I’m so tired of it. I can’t let other people’s actions control me, have a power over me. I’m not responsible for them and what they did, I’m only responsible for myself. For so long, I allowed their actions to pave mine. When I was younger, I wasn’t a good person. Or maybe I was, but I was so defensive, mean, I couldn’t see the good in me. So many times I feel the need to punish myself instead of celebratin
g where I’ve gotten in life. I’m all sorts of messed up, and although I’ve really shifted in the last few years, I’m still learning.

  “The only difference is I now have tools to work through my fears, anxiety, negative thoughts. I’m still human though, and I’m going to mess up. I’m going to push at times, but I’ll also pull. I’ve been stuck in my own emotions after they stirred up that I didn’t even think to support you. It was selfish of me. You also have your own experiences to sort through, and I wasn’t there for you. Instead, I let you walk away. I watched you leave and remained silent when I should’ve called out that I never wanted you to go. I never wanted to hurt you like that. I never wanted to make you walk. I’m sorry.” I stop pacing and look up at Matthias. My throat burns as I wait for him to speak.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for.” He shakes his head when I open my mouth, so I clamp it shut. “It’s what we needed. Did it help you work through your issues?” I nod. “Me, too. I was able to really look at myself and realize I was also carrying a lot of hatred. I spoke to my parents and told them what happened to me when I was a child. It was good. I thank you for that courage. You may not see it, but you pushed me to break away from my own hiding places. One day I may be the one to push. The important thing is that one of us pulls, that we grow and communicate. You needed space. I said things that maybe were too harsh. The one thing I can promise is that you’ll never lose me. Our connection is far too deep, too ingrained into our true existence, to lose one another. This experience in this physical life is just one of many.” He walks to me, his hand cradling my face.

  “We’ve got a ways to go.” He reaches for my hand with his other one and squeezes. “But I promise to walk it together, hand in hand.”

  “I promise, too.”

  “Good because I want to kiss you now.” His lips descend on mine, brushing once, twice, before I open my mouth and invite him in. My tongue sweeps against his, and I sigh, feeling immense emotions as we reunite. My arms reach around his neck and hold on tight as our lips mold together. It’s slow and gentle, both of us taking our time to reconnect in all ways.

  “I’ve missed you,” Matthias confesses as our lips part.

  “I also have.”

  “No more apologizing,” he reads my mind. “We needed that.” He guides us to the sofa, sitting and bringing me onto his lap. “Tell me what you’ve done.”

  So I do. I tell him about my talks with Makenna, my own writing, and the realizations I’ve had these last couple weeks.

  “Love is a truth,” he repeats after me. “I like that.”

  “You taught me that,” I pinch my lips as a smile sneaks its way on my mouth.

  “I love you, Navia.” He brushes his lips against mine.

  I nod and grin. “I love you, too.” I say it without any preconceived ideas of what love should be and just feel it.

  “Stay the night,” he asks.

  “Unless you drive me home, I intend to stay.”

  “Did you walk here?” He shifts us, so we’re lying on the sofa.

  “Yes,” I nod for emphasis.

  “You’re insane,” he chuckles. “It’s not around the corner.”

  “I needed to see you. I needed to talk to you. As soon as it dawned on me that the only truth in life is love, I ran out and walked this way.” Love is the healing force. When we fill ourselves with it, the vacancies we feel are no longer.

  “You could’ve called me.” He shifts his body, so he’s holding me but still looking at my face.

  “I didn’t think about it. Maybe I wanted the element of surprise?” I shrug as much as I can.

  “You surprised me, all right. I’m glad you did.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ve thought about reaching out, but I didn’t want to interfere if you weren’t ready to see me.”

  I nod. “I’d always be ready to see you, but I understand what you’re saying. I also realized that I can’t punish the ghost of my grandfather anymore. It only hurts me. He had his own role to play out in his life, as much as I may disagree with it. Maybe he did love us in his own, twisted way. Maybe he loved us in the best way he could or knew how to. Maybe in his childhood, he was taught to only love conditionally. I don’t know, but I can’t hold on anymore. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with him. A part of me will always be angry. But I’ve chosen not to hold on to it.” It isn’t mine to own; therefore, I send it off to the wind like the petals of a dandelion, carrying away my wishes.

  “That’s a brave choice. You can forgive a little each day. No one said you have to be okay with every hurt. It’s the harboring it that is damaging. The judgment of others we don’t truly know about that scrapes us.”

  We continue to talk, Matthias holding me as we move to the floor, closer to the fireplace. This is happiness. I feel free after expressing everything to him. I feel free after realizing I don’t need to take on other people’s baggage. It’s not my responsibility.

  I step out of the cabin, rested and refreshed. What a difference a full night’s sleep makes. Matthias brought me here last night after spending the day together in his cottage, reconnecting in more ways than just words. When we arrived here last night, I was exhausted, slumber conquered me like a wildfire in a dry forest. Now, I stare out onto the meadow, breathing in the fresh air as the sun rises in the sky. I’ve been here for a couple of months, and I’m still captivated by the town and people who live here.

  The small flowers dance in the breeze, and I sit on the steps of the front porch and watch them sway, my breathing slowing down. My vision begins to blur, pulling me into meditation. I finally close my eyes and feel. I listen to the thumping in my chest and the rustling of nearby trees. The humid air swirls around me, and despite the cool weather, I feel my skin become damp with a fine layer of sweat. I inhale lavender, and the trickling sound of water fills my ears.

  It would be nice to go see the river. Matthias mentioned it last night while we lay in front of the fireplace. He told me about this cabin, and the meaning it has to him, as he sipped whiskey and held me close. His attempt at being seductive only encouraged my sleep even more.

  A smile washes over me as I remember. When I could no longer keep my eyes open, Matthias carried me to his bed and lay with me, making sure he never let go. I still managed to sneak out early to catch the sunrise. His sleeping face was the same as all the times I imagined him. All the times I knew he was there soulfully even if our bodies hadn’t met yet.

  “You snuck out on me.” I smile as Matthias sits on the step above me, one leg on each side, and hugs me with love and protection.

  “You know I love watching the sunrise.”

  “You do,” he whispers in my ear, leaving a soft kiss right below it.

  “I was meditating. This area is beautiful.”

  “Hmm . . . It is. Did I interrupt your meditation?”

  “A little, but I’m glad you did. Do you ever wonder how people levitate while meditating?”

  He chuckles. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t put my energy into it. Who knows?”

  “Yeah.” I nod against his chest.

  “Do you want me to leave you alone a little longer?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I just want to sit here and feel. Stay with me.”

  He tightens his arms around me. “I can do that.”

  I had a teacher once tell the me that using the term light warrior causes a negative vibration. She said to use words like worker or healer, but I like warrior. It reminds me of goddesses. I understand in part why she said it, but I think we give vibrations to words in how we use them. And although we aren’t fighting like warriors, it’s time for light to shine through us and protecting it like a warrior is brave and powerful.

  Coming to live here was to fulfill that aspect of myself. The part of me that understands beyond this dimension and is prepared to help humanity.

  “I have a surprise for later.” His hands move up and down my arms.

  “What is it?” I turn my head to look a
t him, his beard tickling my cheek.

  “I can’t tell you. It would ruin the surprise.” His smirk is teasing.

  “I don’t like surprises,” I mumble.

  “You’ll fancy this one.” His eyes gleam under the rising sun, matching the sky above us.

  “You’re so sure,” I tease, poking his shoulder.

  “Positive.”

  I smile, shifting my body to look at him more clearly. I’m glad I decided to go to him, talk to him. My hands find his face, holding him just inches from me. “Thank you for bringing me here and telling me about this place.”

  “I’m glad I could share it with you, show you this part of me.” He bought this cabin when he was younger with money he had saved, fixing it little by little. It was during his rebellious years when he wanted to break away from everything his family stood for because he knew there were other aspects of the world he hated. He opened up last night, and I listened, comforted him, and held him.

  “Can we go to the river today?”

  “Sure. The water will be ice cold, but it’s beautiful nonetheless. Do you want coffee first?”

  “Yes.” I kiss his lips and stand, extending my hand to him. He takes it and stands, leading us into the house.

  Matthias has been driving for a bit, and I still have no idea where we’re going. He won’t tell me, except that we have to be there by eight-thirty, and he’s been staring at the time the entire drive over.

  “Are we far?” I ask as I watch his jaw tick.

  “We’ve got about another half hour.”

  “So we’re doing good on time,” I point out, noticing it’s seven forty-five.

  He nods, focusing on the road. I admire the vast land and hills as we continue on our drive. Every so often we drive by a home, but overall, it’s empty fields, trees, and wildflowers. We follow the curves of the hills as he takes us further and further away from Glastonbury and closer to the surprise that has him swirling with nervous energy.

  I sigh when we enter a part of the road that is shielded by abundant trees and green foliage. It’s like being transported through a portal, the trees adding magic to the journey.