And sweet is death who puts an end to pain:
I know not which is sweeter, no, not I.
Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be:
Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death to me.
O Love, if death be sweeter, let me die.
I fain would follow love, if that could be;
I needs must follow death, who calls for me;
Call and I follow, I follow! let me die.
Line 1000
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
***
The two months follow my excursion into the belly of the Beast was one of celebrated triumph. Everywhere I went I was alive. I had redeemed my own soul and the shackles of fear that plagued my mind were gone, the key was in simply trusting myself. I was free, but my heart was still caged. The heart of the boy that had been wounded had never healed, and I had doubted that I could find one that could heal it.
The two months follow my excursion into the belly of the Beast was one of celebrated triumph. Everywhere I went I was alive. I had redeemed my own soul and the shackles of fear that plagued my mind were gone, the key was in simply trusting myself. I was free, but my heart was still caged. The heart of the boy that had been wounded had never healed, and I had doubted that I could find one that could heal it.
Everywhere that I had went, people asked if I was single, giving me this advice and that. I traveled around Norway and had given the best lectures that I had ever given, a testimony to finding the Greater Love within. But no matter who crossed my path, I couldn't give the tender love of my wounded heart.
In the process of my travels the boots that I had kept for the five years since I had been issued them finally fell apart. In a self made ceremony, on the shores of the fjord, with a man who was of the land itself and the director of the film Drone, calling upon the blessing of the gods and elements, nature and the setting sun, we purified them in fire and scattered the ashes into the wind. My feet were free to walk any path now. I was free and I had no idea what to do with myself.
See, I hate drones. When I left the program I had wanted nothing to do with them ever again. When I had gotten injured and faced the consequences of that death, I knew I had to face what I had ran away from. I knew I had to give voice to the truth that was hidden in the lies of my country's leadership. I had given myself fully to that, sacrificing dreams and hopes and wants and desires. I had turned away from women who had claimed to love me and then betray my trust. Whenever I had seen the seed of fear planted in their bosom I would leave before it could take root and sprout.
I couldn't give up my search for she who could heal my heart, no matter what protests I said aloud. I knew she didn't exist, but I had to search anyways, otherwise I had nothing that I wanted to live for. I had overcome all things. My broken self had been put back together. My confidence shone like a beacon in the darkness.
Early November 2015, I had given a talk with members of the Red Cross in Oslo, Norway after a screening of Drone. The young woman who had hosted the event was a lawyer and had done some research into drones. Not only that, but she has the look that can turn a man's head backwards if he isn't careful. Since I had nowhere to stay while I was there, she and her boyfriend invited me to sleep in their extra bedroom. In my loneliest of lonelies, I had let the fantasy play out of me stealing her away from her man. A foolish thought that I had laughed away because it was against my personality and I had come to respect both of them as intellectuals and people. And Aristotle does say, it is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.
A few nights later I had a public "debate" at the Nobel Peace center with a Norwegian Air Force Officer and a Norwegian Politician, I had decided to finalize a plan that I had in the works from the beginning. I had decided that I would kill myself. I couldn't see a future in what I was doing and living without love, well, that wasn't something that I wanted to entertain. While I had been free of my duty, I was far from healthy. Like a tortured prisoner that had been found innocent and released, I would carry the scars and wounds with me for the rest of my life.
When I had returned to the apartment the couple that I was staying had been entertaining a few people, and only another couple remained. When I was introduced to both of them, the woman in a black dress with spiderweb stockings, lipstick the color of blood and eyes the color earthy moss, caused my heart to leap into my throat. It was like a bell had been rung in my mind, but I quickly put that out of my thoughts. She was with the other man who was there, and way above my class anyways. When she had said that she had just gotten out of a Tango class, I did a little jig to try and make her laugh and she looked at me like I was mad.
She left shortly afterwards by herself, and I inquired to the gentleman that stayed behind why he didn't go with her and he dismissed even the possibility. They were not together and he wasn't interested in her. After everyone went to bed and I updated my suicide letter, She was the last thing I thought of before I sank into oblivion. The Dark Lady of my dreams finally had a face and figure.
She left shortly afterwards by herself, and I inquired to the gentleman that stayed behind why he didn't go with her and he dismissed even the possibility. They were not together and he wasn't interested in her. After everyone went to bed and I updated my suicide letter, She was the last thing I thought of before I sank into oblivion. The Dark Lady of my dreams finally had a face and figure.
The next evening I went out with the husband of the director of Drone and his best friend. The ENTIRE evening they grilled me on finding a woman. And the entire evening I fought against it. I could have my fantasies, but never my realities. Even the best friend's girlfriend started giving me a difficult time about it. They were relentless. I was pretty heavily drunk late into the evening, having tried to start conversations with random individuals and being brushed off by a few Norwegian women. I never told them who I was or what I had done. I wonder if idle conversation simply isn't my strongest point, or maybe my frustration was leaking through my barriers. We're sitting outside of the Kulturhusset when Lowan tells me to go inside and just talk to somebody. Find someone for the evening and get that frustration out of my system. I needed to use the restroom anyways, so I head inside with a defeated grumble. They just couldn't understand. It's not simply an evening of lust that I wanted. I could get that anywhere. I had a few women back home who were waiting to jump my bones, even my exes were nagging on me. But that wasn't what I sought.
I head into the bathroom and I stood staring at myself in the mirror. I tried to talk myself up, tried to give in. But I couldn't do it. And as I left I resolutely threw the key to my heart as far away from me in my mind as I could. As I'm heading towards the door, I pull my cap low over my eyes when somebody steps in front of me and stops. I'm about to excuse myself when I look up into her smiling face. My heart beats against my ribcage, like a mad prisoner trying to break free. Before I could say anything my voice catches in my throat. She asks what I was doing and think I just shrugged my shoulders. I felt frozen in place. She then invites me to come sit with her and her Bosnian friends. I looked towards the door and then back at her, and I gave into my heart's desire. It was only for an evening after all. And I could use a good conversation, I thought to myself.
And I did. I forgot about all my problems, all my hopes, nothing really mattered but that moment with her. We didn't talk politics or world issues, which had worn upon my soul. We talked about comic books and video games, television shows and books, tattoos and psychology and spirituality, and the turnings of the universe. My heart reached for her through the bars of it's cage. It cried her name and worshiped her spirit. She told me about her upbringing, the war and conflict, and her overcoming of those difficult obstacles at a young age. We talked and talked. She was not only a beautiful woman, but she had a beautiful soul and a sharp mind. Everything that I could have ever wanted in a single package.
I head into the bathroom and I stood staring at myself in the mirror. I tried to talk myself up, tried to give in. But I couldn't do it. And as I left I resolutely threw the key to my heart as far away from me in my mind as I could. As I'm heading towards the door, I pull my cap low over my eyes when somebody steps in front of me and stops. I'm about to excuse myself when I look up into her smiling face. My heart beats against my ribcage, like a mad prisoner trying to break free. Before I could say anything my voice catches in my throat. She asks what I was doing and think I just shrugged my shoulders. I felt frozen in place. She then invites me to come sit with her and her Bosnian friends. I looked towards the door and then back at her, and I gave into my heart's desire. It was only for an evening after all. And I could use a good conversation, I thought to myself.
And I did. I forgot about all my problems, all my hopes, nothing really mattered but that moment with her. We didn't talk politics or world issues, which had worn upon my soul. We talked about comic books and video games, television shows and books, tattoos and psychology and spirituality, and the turnings of the universe. My heart reached for her through the bars of it's cage. It cried her name and worshiped her spirit. She told me about her upbringing, the war and conflict, and her overcoming of those difficult obstacles at a young age. We talked and talked. She was not only a beautiful woman, but she had a beautiful soul and a sharp mind. Everything that I could have ever wanted in a single package.
But I knew that with all good things, they have to come to an end. And I would have rather kept that love alive in fantasy and died dreaming of what could be, than to bring her my wounds. Because I know people, and I know women. They might say that they want to fix a man, but they really don't. They want a man who is fully realized and complete. My healing process was far from complete, even if I had come into realization of myself. So I thanked her for a lovely evening, and sorrowfully made my way back to Lowan's place, happy with a heavy heart. And I dreamt of her again.
The next day I staggered back to the apartment room I was staying at. I wrote down my dream in a poem that I had of the Dark Lady the night before. We danced in my dreams, the dance of life and death. I felt like I was flying with a lead weight. The couple I was staying with were going to a party that evening and invited me along. I politely declined, being tired and lost in my dreams. I did mention that I had ran into Melissa the night before, and since I didn't have a phone number to let her know that was the most enjoyable evening I could ever have had and to thank her for it. The male looked at me and told me she would be at the party. The woman immediately jumped on that and told me to tell her myself. I'm pretty sure there was no hesitation as I jumped into the shower and got ready.
It was late before she got there. The gentleman from the first evening that I met my Dark Lady talked my ear off about politics. If there is anything that can tire me out more, it's news and politics. When she arrived, I forgot about my tiredness. She was lovely in her black security tee shirt and pants. We talked about music and took over DJing. I didn't care if that was the music that the rest of the company didn't want to listen to. I just wanted to see her and please her.
When we left, I was prepared to say goodbye, maybe for the last time. I was headed out to do a TEDx Talk in Trondheim, where she is from, and then head back to the United States for the world Premiere of Drone. When we got to the bus stop she asked if I would like to come over to smoke a joint and see her comic book collection. I looked at her, and saw her fully. She had picked up the key that I had thrown so far away and handed back to me. She didn't force it. When she held out her hand to me, I took it in full awareness. I didn't fall in love with her, I never wanted to fall again. I walked into it with her. I let my heart out of it's cage. I let myself be vulnerable with her. I didn't need her, I wanted her. And I thought maybe, just maybe, I could heal in her embrace.
A few weeks later, after I had successfully returned from my excursion in the US into her arms, and I had thought myself out of harms way... THEY attacked.
When we left, I was prepared to say goodbye, maybe for the last time. I was headed out to do a TEDx Talk in Trondheim, where she is from, and then head back to the United States for the world Premiere of Drone. When we got to the bus stop she asked if I would like to come over to smoke a joint and see her comic book collection. I looked at her, and saw her fully. She had picked up the key that I had thrown so far away and handed back to me. She didn't force it. When she held out her hand to me, I took it in full awareness. I didn't fall in love with her, I never wanted to fall again. I walked into it with her. I let my heart out of it's cage. I let myself be vulnerable with her. I didn't need her, I wanted her. And I thought maybe, just maybe, I could heal in her embrace.
A few weeks later, after I had successfully returned from my excursion in the US into her arms, and I had thought myself out of harms way... THEY attacked.
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