We are so in love, him and me. Our time together is creative and filled with laughter. He is an artist and I often watch him work. Sometimes when he is finished, with his works, I trim the edges but this day would be different. He had finished his project and handed me a pair of large scissors as he walked away. I thought he wanted me to trim the edges as I usually did. I made one cut on a lower corner and quit as I was not sure of the width. Nothing was said as in the next moments he was sitting at the work table with friends. I was standing apart from them. It was as if there was a celebration going on over the completion of the project which looked like a red, brick wall on canvas. He starts to question me intensely almost as if he was angry. I finally said what do you want me to say? Do you want me to say I cut it? There was a gasp of disbelief. His friend was joking as he held up a pair of scissors and ask my love to hand him his artwork saying, “The scissors are empty.” My counterpart was angry and I bore the brunt of it in front of everyone. They, along with him, left the room. They left me alone in the midst of the shattering.
He did not come back so I gathered my belongings together and moved out. I did not go anyplace that would be familiar to him or anyone else. It was as if I dropped off the face of the earth. At that point, I needed complete isolation. I needed solitude to heal. I found myself staying in a place called Wit’s End.
The healing journey brought forth what would become my masterpiece, a book called The Cut. As I titled the book I thought when I cut his finished work it was as if I cut his heart and in turn severed mine. It was as if all the love between us bled out.
The words on the pages were cathartic. I wondered how such a small cut could unleash a fury that would end a love as great as ours. I also wondered why he had handed me the scissors. What was happening at that moment that set us on a different path? What destiny was calling on us? Through the cut a masterpiece was born, both his and mine. I had since seen his works and they spoke from his heart as they called out a response from the heart. Mine as well.
My heart was broken, emptied, and shattered as I walked away into the void. The volumes of written words that followed came forth as through a divine counselor. I felt the full force of the pain of separation through every word and through writing their healing transformation. Each page was like that until I reached the pinnacle a new person, same skin, renewed spirit.
It was only through entering the void I could move away from being both perpetrator and victim.
It was only through entering the void that I could see that both actors on the stage were me, the yin and yang of myself.
Through entering the void I embarked upon the courageous journey of coming home to who I am. I moved from being lonely to being everything.
Through entering the void I learned that love was not a thing that someone else can give me and then take away.
Through entering the void I learned that I have been made whole through healing the cut between the feminine and masculine aspects of myself.
I came to Wit’s End gushing tears from a reservoir of emptiness and loss. I walked away flowing tears of joy and peace. The trial by fire burned away the tinsel and left behind the gold of pure spirit. I now know that love is not an act but rather a state of being. I also know that this love freely given cannot be taken away regardless of earthly circumstances.
As I walked away I lifted my arms in gratitude towards heaven. The cut, through all of its ramifications, was not an ending but rather a beginning. The lights are on and I AM home.