a beautiful specter would visit me at night.
At first, when I would try to tell my parents and others of the vision, it was always explained as a dream. "You're dreaming, sweetheart; it's just a dream," they would tell me.
But I wasn't dreaming, and eventually I lost the need to tell anyone of my stunning, nighttime companion. Well, it has been almost every night anyway, even now that I'm married.
I always knew that in some way I didn't completely understand—She was me; although She was also something different than me. And sometimes She speaks to me without speaking,
and sometimes we are just together.
As the years have gone by with their ups and downs, I have enjoyed a certain placidness.
"Honey, you are the most serene person I know," people have told me often.
It's because She comes to me and let's me know that there is something more to things than it seems—something wondrous. She is wondrous.
And when I first started to learn that there are those in the world that judge others harshly as a destructive substitute for facing themselves; or have learned to hate others simply for what they are or what they think they are—She came and spoke to me every night without fail.
"I am angry and hurt," I would cry.
"Of course you are, you are human," She would reply from somewhere deep inside of me,
"But the choice is still yours."
"What choice?!" I would ask,
"To keep people from hurting and hating? How? How can I do that?! What choice do I have?!!"
"Whether to join them," She would reply, "or not."
And heaven can surely attest that I haven't always been perfect at focusing on Love and not hate,
but everyday—I know my choice.
Written Content G.A.M. cc