I walked into the room and my head began to spin and at the same time I felt that I was on earth, awake and present. We sat down in the usual uncomfortable wooden Nicaraguan chairs. He offered me cold tea. I took it. He reached out and held my hand and looked at me intently for a bit. Then he asked, "How did we find ourselves here?"
He was part of me. The other part. He was the masculine. He was the establishment. He was sitting in his huge church with his every need taken care of, even his eternity, if the story can be believed. We were one and the same. I was a woman, jobless, homeless, drifting on a hope and a dream, with something inside me shouting, "I am here! I have arrived full circle. I am happy!"
His eyes told me the same story that I was feeling. No, guys. This was not sexual. This was not an hallucination. This was not a mirage. But the question remained: "How did we find ourselves here?"
When I was a child in Romania, everyone celebrated me. It was just a fact. I was the golden kid. My mother was a fiery red head. My father was a great farmer. Everything he planted grew and thrived including me. I was born in the caul which greatly pleased all the old ladies who held tight to their superstitions. I was strong, pretty, smart and I 'knew' things.
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