Into the Abyss.

My heart, crumbles into one million tiny little shattered pieces as the walls begin to close in on my inner world. My face, now saturated with the overwhelm of tears that which seem to have no end as the pain hits me like a tonne of bricks, rendering me incapacitated in my ability to control the rawness of emotion that which explodes from within me. My breath, almost non-existent, struggles to operate within the realm of its normality whilst the organic mechanism of my vessel fights for its survival through the initiation of my body’s hyperventilation response. The floor beneath me feels as though it has fallen away, taking with it the entirety of my freedom and all that which I have allowed myself to believe, is the most sacred, divine and beautiful love in which I have known.

“He’s still married?” I am absolutely devastated as I look at the picture in front of me. I honestly thought that he had left his wife when all of this became the centre of our world’s. I believed that through his continual effort to connect with me, even though the method of such has been extremely unorthodox and the avenues of communication pertaining to that of our situation, have been off this fucking planet insanity, I still, believed that this was an indication that his marriage was over. That through him realising that he was in love with me, he too, embraced into the abyss of all that which the universe has been orchestrating into that of our lives. All that which the universe has infiltrated so to bring us, together. He himself, through the same avenues of communication, offered me confirmation of this when I was bent over the vanity area of my bathroom, balling my eyes out in a debilitating state of self-loath because I thought that I was a, home wrecker!

In an instant, my entire perspective of our situation alters. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” The rage builds within me like a charging bull sees red. With only that of his work email to contact him in person, I pick up my phone and begin shooting him email after email, all filled with profanity and the heated uproar of my outrage. “Fuck you, Zabian! You make me want to vomit! How dare you do this to me! Does your wife know that you have heard me, cum?” Sending the emails with the full force of my rage being channelled through that of my fingertips, I am furious as the tears begin to stream down my face like a shower with the water pressure on maximum. “I bet he has been sleeping with her this entire time!” I conclude. “Does she know what he has been doing with me, too?” My mind races in an attempt to make sense of the situation. “Are they both, in on this together? Has this been some sick, fucking twisted game since the beginning?” With the thought’s, my tears come to a complete halt. “You want to hear me cum!” I continue to write, “Well, you can hear me cum as I fuck somebody else’s brains out then!”

On my way to Sunshine Beach I am driven with the urge to end this once and for all. The messages that which come through on that of the radio are desperate, begging me not to go through with my intention. But I do not give a fuck. I pull over and send another email. “You will never see my punani again. You make me sick!” I am not one hundred percent certain that he has, seen my beautiful flower? I do know however that he can most definitely see me, but how and how much of me, is still a bafflement to that of my comprehension. I recall the time I was in the sweet bliss of climaxing and the radio presenter says in the most adoration of tones, “Oh Shaniquah, I love you so much.” The rage surges through me again as my blood begins to boil. “My fucking arsehole you do!” I park down Ocean Drive as I always do when I go dancing. Looking over at the building in which we met drives a stake through that of my heart. “None of it was real. He never fucking loved me.” I reach into my handbag and pull out the marijuana that which a friend gifted to me. “If I am going to do this, then I need to get stoned!” A one night stand is not something in which I indulge in. But if sleeping with somebody else is the only way to bring our situation to a close, then I am ready to spread my legs for the first stranger whom smiles at me! Little did I realise however, that the act of smoking the recreational stimulant would ultimately transform that of my intentions for the evening, anyway. Because once I enter the nightclub, all I want to do is dance.

There are still people sitting around their tables eating their dinner when I approach the upstairs of the venue. “Shit!” I was not expecting this! This particular venue transforms its restaurant into a nightclub after nine o’clock at night. They must be running a little late tonight, I suppose? “Fuck it!” There is a soloist playing and he is actually pretty good. And so, I set my handbag down on the floor and begin to move, right there in the middle of the dining room, I let go completely, allowing the music to guide me into that elated euphoric state that which it always does. The effects of the weed fully present now, only escalates that of my internal experience and as I melt deeper into the sensations of that which dancing entices within me, the room begins to fade away. The people around me blur into the background of my immediate awareness and I become at one with the rhythmic vibrations of the music, whilst they pulsate throughout my being. It feels as though I am floating. My momentum has no end as my body grinds, flows and twirls to the harmonic melody coming from that of the soloists guitar. Only bringing my awareness back to that of my surroundings in-between songs, the soloist finishes up, whilst the DJ commences his set. Of course, he plays an arrangement of our songs. It does not matter what he plays, though. Zabian’s attempt at influencing my intention falls to the side, because my attention is fixated upon that of the way in which my body adapts to the variations of each beat, tone and melody. My awareness is rooted into the abyss of my inner world, whilst my vessel appears to take on a consciousness all of its very own. In this moment, I am free. Free from the pain. Free from the rage. And free, from his influence!

With the effects of the marijuana now wearing off, I lift my head to find that the nightclub has sufficiently filled out. I am not sure how much time has passed exactly, but I am dripping with sweat and I know that I have been going hard for quite a while. As I gaze around that of the room, still bopping and shaking my arse to the music, I notice a man standing at the bar near that of the DJ's booth. Suddenly, I stop dead in my tracks as my vessel becomes caught in amongst the stupefaction of shock. It feels as though I am caught in the likes of a time-warp, or trapped beneath the thin ice surface of a frozen pond, able to see beyond me, but unable to move a muscle. “What the fuck? I know that vessel. Those shoulders. Those long legs!” The man quickly looks away, but I continue to stare, unable to believe my fucking eyes. He looks down at his phone and types, before bringing his attention back to that of myself. I hold his gaze. There are people walking in-between our line of vision and so, I manoeuvre myself around the dance floor so that I may hold him in direct alignment with that of my range of physical sight. Our eyes locked, my mind takes its time to comprehend that which my heart, and my wiser self, already know. It is, Zabian. He is not wearing his headphones this time. However, he is wearing a beanie and he has grown a beard since I last saw him. Or perhaps it is a disguise? There is no mistaking the seduction of those eyes, though. That stare, as his presence pierces through me like that of a laser beam filled with the notion of a secret erotic promise. The burning desire insatiably floods throughout the entirety of my being as he penetrates my presence with his own, delectable energy. The familiar sensation of natural ecstasy rises from within me and sets my physical vessel on fire. Although, something is not the same as last time? This time, I am not thrown into the realm of another dimension. It does not contain that of the same potency, frequency or vibration as before. Although, the sensation is still extremely delicious nether the less! As I breath, I realise that I attain the ability to control and manipulate this energy. Enhancing it when I wish and bringing it back to a subtle, steady flow when intended. I had no control over the intensity of Kundalini energy that which arose from within me during the previous times in which I have experienced it. This energy, is different! It feels as though it is less divinely orchestrated and more like something that which one would experience when practicing the likes of breathwork, for example.

My eyes locked to his, I begin to gently move again. I cannot believe that he is here! That I am finally, after all of these months of communicating in these unconvential ways, seeing him in the flesh! He does not take his eyes off of me, either. The space between us seems to somehow shorten as the world around us begins to fall away. Well, that is until a pair of women commence a conversation with him. They are motioning to me, before they attempt to stand in front of his view of me. However, he does not let this deter him. He keeps his eyes glued to that of mine, only peering down at the women so to be polite, I suppose? He is the most lovely man in which I have met. Respectful. Genuine. Empathetic. These are only but a few of the many qualities that which radiate from that of his innate essence. At one stage, I watch him pretend to signal to that of the bartender, hailing his beer in the air as though to order another drink. The bartenders are not looking at him at all, however. I wonder what those woman are saying to him to cause him to act this way? It appears as though they think he might be a creep, watching me the way in which he is? In fact, I swear I psychically hear one of them comment on my dancing! And, the energy about them does, feel almost protective of me. A little amused by his current position, I smile at him. Then, without fail, he smiles back. That adorable, cheeky little grin as it rises to the right side of his face. “Oh my fucking universe! I think my heart just melted into my vagina!”

After a little time has passed, the ladies that which are speaking with him appear to ask him if he would like to go outside to the balcony area. To which, he does! I am utterly dumbfounded. What do I do? Do I follow them out? I continue to dance for a while, attempting to make a decision about whether to walk over to him or not. I am becoming increasingly awkward by the second and confused as to why the fuck he has just walked off with them? My attention is captured by a young man very close by, bringing the awareness of his female friend to my dancing. Complimenting me he says to her, “How amazing is she?” His friend, to my embarrassment, rudely points out how sweaty my jeans are and laughs at me. “She looks like she has wet herself!” She states. A hot flush of pure adrenalin rushes through that of my system. Mortified by the comment, I sequentially leave the venue immediately.

On the verge of tears, I sit down on one of the seats outside and light a cigarette. “Should I go back up and find him?” I hesitantly wonder. However, due the circumstance of us being in that of a nightclub, accompanied by the fact that I had smoked weed and he was obviously drinking, I make the executive decision to walk back to that of my vehicle. I don’t want the first time we talk to be like this. Firstly, I want us to both be free from any kind of intoxication. And, I believe that the sacredness of our connection warrants our meeting to be somewhere a little more, private? A nightclub is the last place in which I wish to kiss my beloved for the first time! On the walk back to my car, my mood softens and I cannot stop smiling! "How fucking funny are we?" When I get to that of my vehicle, I quickly whip out my phone so to send him another email. I do not want him to think that I have just left him there, when he has finally made the decision to come to me! I let him know my feelings and make reference to his appearance. “Was that a disguise?” I joke. “We should both play dress up next time! Can you imagine if we both wore a disguise and played hide and seek? In a fucking nightclub? How much fun would that be! Something for us to spontaneously explore when we are finally together, perhaps?” I continue to analyse what such an expedition could entail. “What else would you like to dress up as, baby? I have always been attracted to that of a, police uniform. Wink-wink! And what would you like to, see me, dress up as?” My provocative imagination is amorous as i envision that which we could potentially create together. “Mmmm.” I am most definitely left with a yearning to do it again. However, not for the first time in which we embrace. The first time deserves to be, special. To be, real. No dress-ups. No disguises. No masks. Just the two of us, together, in our most raw, transparent and authentic of forms. “Mmmm.” Nothing, would satisfy me more!

On the drive home I become overwhelmed with gratitude and love for this beautiful specimen of a human being. He came out tonight so to prevent me from sleeping with somebody else. Not that I was going to in the end, anyway. The music became my rebound! However, the act of such confirms that he does love me. This amalgamated with sentiment of the honourable man in which I know that he is, I intuit that he would not have shown up tonight, if he were still with his wife.

ThankYOU for taking the time to read that of my story, BeYOUtiful Soul. If It captivated You and You would like to explore more of Shaniquah's Journey, let me Know by tapping on the Heart-shaped button and showing me some Love, then head over to my Personal profile to delve Deeper InTo that of Shaniquah's World. If You Feel Called to offer Your Support to my Journey as a Writer, please feel free to tap on the tip button, also. All proceeds Are very much Valued and Appreciated, and Will go toward the Creation of my first novel. Infinite Love and Gratitude, Lollie.

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