I don’t really remember how it started.
I guess it’s just one of those events in my life that happened without me being present in it, even though I was the main character of the developing story.
The truth is, it may have been my first tattoo; the activation code. Who knows.
That day I had gotten tired of crying.
Two years of my life believing in a lie had left me drained, dry and partially dead.
I have never understood love matters, and as it has been proved over and over again; love matters also don’t understand me. We just don’t get along.
Back then it was different though. I kept holding on to the idea that the day would come when I would find “the one”.
What an utopian dull idea.
Can anybody explain to me what in the 9 levels of Dante’s Inferno does “the one” mean?
The one outside of you that is supposed to compliment you? So, are we broken from the kick off; like, half constructed? The one that is another one ready to understand and love us unconditionally? 100%? Right, as if you were able to comprehend even 20% of what goes on in your own head… And let’s not get into the “love yourself” percentage…
Damn it.
Who came up with such a ridiculous idea?
Anyway, that day I had decided to be reborn. Myself. By myself. Me. Me. Certainly not thanks to some bibble-babble intervention of “the chosen” one for me.
After 1 hour and a half, the tattoo that represented my feeling of self transformation was finished. And right after that, things started to happen.
The first encounter was during a night that found me begging to find some peace; silently screaming for a sign.
Resorting to ask for the aid of some supreme power has not always been one of my favourite techniques; but when you mix desolation with desperation, the unexpected occurs.
And so, I had my first encounter.
She did not talk, actually I didn’t even see her.
But her presence could be felt in the room; and throughout the flame of that first red candle, I then came to the realization that I had awakened.