you and me

I Bid Thee Farewell.

 

He creeps in slowly and mesmerizes me with his eyes. He looks at me tenderly, deeply, like I am the first lover he has seen in months.

My blood rises up to the surface of my skin to meet his touch as he grazes my cheekbone with his fingertips.

He feels my swollen lips and stares at them longingly as he leans in to kiss them, to taste them. I don’t even try to fight it. My body asks for him to come in, to penetrate my energy field, to play with the edges of my aura, and to tickle the fire that begins building in my sacred temple.

Somehow his arms find their way around my body as his mouth sucks on my delicate neck. The heat between us begins to build and I somehow find myself asking him for more. My head knows better, but my heart refuses to listen and it speaks words that my lips do not consent to.

He tells me the things I long to hear, whispers them into my ear like the slow descent of maple syrup down the trunk of a tree. Only his words, though sweet at first, lack any real nutrients that will last much longer than an hour, or even a minute, but in that moment, I don’t care.

In fact, it makes me cling tighter to his body as I thrust myself closer into him and I know, in spite of myself, that no amount of holding on will make the experience last longer, or make it real in any way.

I begin to feel myself tremble underneath his hands and my breathing becomes shallow. He looks deeply into my eyes and gives a wry smile, and before I know it, two sharp fangs appear, once more reminding me that he is there for one thing and one thing only.

And I give it freely.

I let him in.

To any part he wants to explore, convincing myself that it’s because I love him. And maybe I do in that moment. His lips find their way to my neck and I feel the sting of his bite as my warm blood nourishes his existence.

He feeds until he has had enough and then pretends to still love me afterward. He holds me close, but not too close as he doesn’t want me to bleed on him in any way.

And then he goes.

And he is gone.

And I’m left with nothing, but a memory and sheer exhaustion that the very life force was sucked out of me. I’m left with muddy boots in the temple I work so hard to keep sacred. I’m left with sticky sap in my ears that felt like honey to my soul, and I’m left with a raw, beating heart.

And I cry.

I yell.

I hold myself in righteous anger.

And I swear I’ll never do it again.

Until he creeps in slowly once more when his other favorite elixirs are not available to him, or he is simply growing bored with them.

And he beckons.

And I return.

And I fall for it again.

But this is my final ode to the energy vampire. You are no longer welcome in this place, this temple, on this priestess’ throne.

You are no longer allowed to spit on the very statues that I work so hard to keep shined.

You are not free to sit wherever you choose and demand to be fed mind, body, soul.

You cannot be the vacuum to my joyous energy, depleting me until I feel the blackness of anger.

You are no longer allowed to tell me those words, or touch me in that way, or offer yourself to me in the hopes that you’ll get more from me.

Dear incubus, you are no longer welcome. Your invitation has been rescinded and this space I claim once more as mine.

Consider this my final farewell, dear flame, for your time with me has officially ended.

Good riddance to the lies and the sadness.

Good riddance to the games and the deceit.

Good riddance to the little boy dressed as a vampire.

***

Natalie Sophia is a self-proclaimed writer, healer, yogini. Her mission in life is to heal and be healed. She loves to laugh, to feel and to write. She began her journey of awakening a few years ago, and though there are times she longs to go ‘back to sleep’, she knows she has work to do. Her work and her passion are one and the same, and she hopes to inspire others on their life path to attend to their deepest longings as a soul in a human body. Natalie feels that life is meant to be enjoyed, not endured. She knows that pain can be inevitable, but there is always choice in the story created from that pain. Feel free to check out more from Natalie on her website and Facebook.

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