My heart is so heavy. I long for you to be near me. You've left me and I know it's of my own doing. I've been so harsh with you. I've taken you for granted. I've not appreciated your beauty, gentleness, or your love that you so freely offered to me. I turned you away. I didn't see all that you had to offer me. I didn't value you. You were so much more than my wife, my lover, my friend, but I only saw you as a burden to me. I was disgusted by your presence, I admit it. Your love felt like suffocation...like a trick to keep me in your possession. I didn't understand all that you were. I only saw you as a weight that I had to carry, but it was you that carried me. Your love was given over and over until the vessel had run dry. Now I'm alone and yearning for you. I was so foolish to make you run away from me.
I'm asking now that you please forgive me...forgive my ignorance, my fear, my struggle. I know that I am far from the perfect man, but I want to show you I can be the perfect man for you. I want to laugh and cry together, share our deepest and most intimate secrets. I want to be the shoulder where you lie your head and find solace. I want to be yours and yours alone. I didn't know it then, but I know it now. I want to be your protector, your cheerleader, your love again. We belong together. You have no reason to forgive me, but if you did I would be eternally grateful.
Art: 'The Other Side' by Dean Cornwell (1918)
My love you are not solely to blame. I too did not appreciate all that you had to offer. I wanted to prove my worth and so I worked tirelessly doing for you and coddled you like a child. I was afraid of losing you. I wanted you to know how much I loved you, and in doing so I made you feel like something was wrong. I pushed you away because I was certain it was over. I was certain you would abandon me. I ran away from you because I was ashamed. I just knew you would be happier with someone else.
I'm asking you to forgive me...forgive my ignorance, my fear, my struggle. I know that I am far from the perfect woman, but I want you to see that I can be the perfect woman for you. I too want to laugh and cry together, share our deepest and most intimate secrets. I want to be a presence for you when you need to find solace. I want to be yours and yours alone. I need you just as you need me, too. We do belong together. I forgive you, completely and I ask that you forgive me, too. I am eternally grateful that you are still a part of our lives. I'm coming home.
I woke up at 3:33 this morning, it's pretty typical these days. I have a lot on my mind that my subconscious wants me to work out. I've learned a lot over the last 50 years. I've learned you carry your past with you everywhere you go. It doesn't matter where you are, it's there. The mistakes you've made, the little wins. They're permanently etched in your soul. You'll hear it in your breathing. You'll see it in the expression on your face. You'll feel it in the dull ache of your heart and the tears that come when you least expect it. There's no hiding it.
You'll lose people you love to death, to differences of opinion, to marriages, divorces, separations, to anxiety and to misunderstandings. And every single one of them will hurt as if a part of you has died.
I've learned that your past does define you, but so do the actions you take to move forward. I've learned that every single one of us wants to give up sometimes. Every person you meet carries their past, too. I've learned that not everyone recognizes their unhealed wounds, and I've learned what it feels like to be the mirror for those wounds. I've learned that I see myself in everyone I meet and that if I don't like what I see, I turn away.
I've learned that someone can be head over heels in love with you one moment and resent you the next. I've learned that when an illusion is dissolved, another illusion is easier to pursue than to create something that's real. I've learned that facing your demons isn't something everyone can or wants to do.
I've learned that the strongest people I know have had some of the most painful life lessons; and some of the most loving have felt the least amount of love.
I've learned that there's no such thing as having no regrets. If you're living your life, you're going to make mistakes. I've learned that being present is the only way to live no matter where you are. Sometimes it hurts, but feeling is the only way you can be present in the moment. And feeling is how you know you're alive.
I've learned it hurts when you let go, but it hurts more to keep holding on. I've learned that kindness is the single most important thing in life. And I've learned that being grateful and loving, even when you're feeling like things aren't going your way can really help get you through the day.
I've learned that there are beautiful people all over the world who understand me. I've learned that the more you're grateful for them, the more of them that appear in your life.
I've learned that life isn't easy, but it's beautiful even in its struggles. I've learned that there's nothing more beautiful than having a life to live. For this, I am grateful.
When I was in high school a good friend of mine told me she could leave her body consciously, I think I was about 17 when she told me. As a part of my desire to understand everything about the metaphysical world, I asked her to show me how to do it. I thought for certain this would hold the key to understanding all of the things that had been happening to me my whole life...seeing and hearing spirits, communicating telepathically with animals, channeling poetry and messages while in a a trance state, lucid dreams where it seemed I was someplace else entirely. What I didn't realize is that I already left my body often, traveling the astral during my sleep. The difference was my level of awareness.
The first time I became aware I was out of my body was about two years later when I was 19. I "woke up" above my home looking down on the roof thinking about how some of the shingles looked damaged. Then I felt this magnetic pull that hoisted me upward into space. I flew so fast that everything was a blur. I hovered in the darkness feeling at peace. I pushed myself back down to just above the treetops in our yard, marveling at how beautiful they were even in the moonlight. Suddenly another sensation pulled me at amazing speed across the fields, the roads and the river into Kentucky behind a restaurant where I saw the most beautiful being of light. My heart raced and I instantly recognized this being and felt the most amazing love I've ever felt. I held up my "hands" and I looked exactly the same. I could see that I too was a beautiful glowing blue-white being of light. We touched hands and I wanted to stay in that moment forever. It was a homecoming for me. I was finally genuinely connected with someone, something I wanted more than anything. I had always felt so alone in Southern Illinois and on the earth.
The second time I remembered being out of my body was a few months later. I had gone to bed very tired. I woke up in the living room of my house. I was trying to walk through the living room, but the energy was so dense it was like trying to walk through quicksand. I was stuck in the living room and I was afraid. I realized I was out of my body and my heart started to race. The more I tried to push through the energy, the stronger the energy seemed to stop me. Suddenly, I panicked and I was pulled back into my body so fast when I hit it I woke up out of breath.
One day I came home from class during college to take a nap. I was in my room talking in my sleep in what my mother said was jumbled nonsense. I was sitting up with my arms stretched upward. That's what she saw. I was experiencing something different. I saw thousands of light beings flying overhead reaching down to me in love, pulling me halfway out of my body. I couldn't decide if I wanted to go with them or stay where I was. I must have decided to stay because I laid back down, went fully into my body and finished my nap.
The single most profound experience I had out of body, I didn't immediately become aware I was out. I thought I was dreaming. I was looking out of the top window of the front door of our home and marveling at what I was experiencing. I was looking out at the trees, the grass, the rocks and everything had these amazing colors. These were colors I'd never seen before. They were so bright, so vivid, and so alive. I could feel them, smell them, hear them, and taste them. The energy of everything was alive. The sound they made was like a lullaby, a humming frequency that was permeating my being. The taste was like the sweetest and most delicious fruit I had ever tasted. The smell was equally as appealing, but I have no words that can describe it. I had never felt more connected to myself. I was fully part of everything. That's when I realized I wasn't tall enough to possibly be looking out the window on the top of the door. The second I did I looked down and I didn't have any feet, I turned around and saw my body lying in the bed and that's when I hit it at full speed. It knocked the breath out of me and I sat up and smiled.
I've been attempting to write a Science Fiction book for the last five years or so about a race of beings that have been living among humans undetected since humans have existed. The premise is that in order to prevent their race from becoming extinct, they create a human cross-breeding program that goes awry.
I've written five first drafts of the first ten chapters. I've tried telling the story in many ways and finally I figured out how I need to tell it. This epiphany came when I started reflecting on romantic relationships – what went wrong, what worked, and how to sustain them.
A good story needs chemistry to sustain the reader, just like a romantic relationship needs chemistry to maintain it. I started researching what to do when a romantic relationship has either lost its chemistry, or never really had it. I found a good article about what to do when you're in relationship with no chemistry, but it didn't really explain why it happens. Certainly there are some biological reasons why people have chemistry, but I wanted to additionally understand what causes a partner to continue to pursue someone from a psychological perspective.
I think fairytales hold a lot of insight into this phenomenon. The knight and his maiden are a perfect example of our biological and psychological needs in a relationship. I'm going to explain my thoughts using a heterosexual relationship as the basis, but it can be applied to homosexual ones if you apply it to dominant and submissive roles instead of gender.
The knight longs for someone to save; it's his purpose. The maiden longs for someone to save her. This storyline has been written in fairytales for centuries and it can be traced back to our beginnings when the cave men were the protectors and the females they rescued, their mates.
In modern times women have become self-sufficient, and this has changed the chemistry between the sexes significantly. What does a knight have to offer a maiden that doesn't need to be rescued? This is where things break down psychologically and goes against our ancestral programming and basic biological makeup.
Because the maiden doesn't need to be rescued, the knight becomes complacent, depressed, and resentful. This is where the term "chivalry is dead" comes into play. The maiden still wants to be rescued but can't show it, because that would make her vulnerable. The maiden needs to be vulnerable so she can attract the knight to come to her aid. She becomes exhausted constantly having to save herself, and unable to ask for help. She becomes bitter, resentful, and cruel. This is is what is happening to us psychologically, but perhaps on a subconscious level.
Ladies we have to allow ourselves to be vulnerable enough to attract the right partner. It means understanding that our romantic partner will need to have meaningful work within our relationship to keep him satisfied. It doesn't mean not being strong, but perhaps finding strength in our vulnerability. Being receptive to his outstretched hand instead of insisting we do everything ourselves.
Gentlemen we need you to look for ways to rescue us, too. We don't want to do it all. We want your help. It doesn't mean dominating us, but continuing to see us as in need of your loving support and tenderness.
I wrote this screenplay in one day (about 6 hours). It was my first attempt at screenwriting, it is a rough draft. There was just so much energy inside my body that needed an outlet. Originally it was called "Consumption" because it is about what happens when we try to heal what's on the inside with what's outside of us. At the time, I was watching a lot of David Lynch films and this was heavily influenced by his style.
Click on my imagined movie poster for a readable PDF of the screenplay.
Over the course of our lives, we develop personas. As a child we learn about who we are by playing, I was particularly fond of superheroes and Barbie. I look back now and I can see the parts of me that are reflected in those characters. I also liked to pretend I was a famous actress, singer, and dancer. It brought me incredible joy. It seems to me that these are parts of me I've been neglecting while playing my other, more responsible roles.
When we start to mature physically, we start to explore the more adult types of roles that we will play. I took on the role of employee for the first time shortly after turning 16. I learned what it meant to have a job and the responsibilities that came along with it. I was still also playing the role of student, daughter, sister, and friend. I had other roles I was playing as well. I've always been a caretaker feeling incredible responsibility for the well-being of my friends and family, including the family pets. My mother instilled a sense of social responsibility in me early on in my life, volunteering at the fire department, police department, and nursing homes.
Somewhere along our journey we become fragmented, playing many different roles. People are often surprised to learn that I'm highly intuitive, took ninjitsu, lived in Japan, or grew up on a farm. The role that they've assigned to me in their story suddenly takes a plot twist.
I've adapted my "story" in the past to make others feel more comfortable. I've separated parts of me into digestible portions so others don't choke, but my authentic self wants to be a complete expression.
I think this personal fragmentation is a reflection of what happens when we incarnate here. We perpetuate the illusion of separation individually as well as the whole.. Many of us are starting to feel this incredible shift that is happening, where we are coming back together within so we can all feel more whole.
Don't be afraid to be all of you. That's what we're all meant to do. It's a process. Lean into it. Open your hearts and minds to all that you are. You are a perfect expression of all that is.
Photo credit: Joy Reactor
She came to my crib when I was just a baby, the ghost of a woman who's identity I will never know. I think she tried to tell me, but I was too scared and too young to know what to do. She wasn't like the others who visited me. She was angry, distraught, and frantic. I knew the difference between her and the spirits who loved me. She was a threat.
The first thing she tried to do was get me to touch her, and I must have been protected because she couldn't apparently without my permission. She showed me all these beautiful rings and asked me if I wanted one. All I had to do was reach out and take one, she had said. I knew better and cried immediately. After my brother was born in 1974, I started sleepwalking. I was only three. I would stand in front of his crib with my fists up, trying to protect him from the woman who seemed to enjoy harassing children.
Sometime when I was about four years old, I saw Snow White. I remember thinking that the woman who was visiting me must have been an evil witch, who wanted nothing more than to take me out. It became even more frightening for me. I started telling my parents that there was a witch in my room who wouldn't leave me alone. Eventually she started calling me names that I had not heard anywhere else, and clawed at the side of my bed.
When my older brother passed away in April of 1976, we moved away from the old Maryland farmhouse where we had been staying and I thought that I had gotten rid of her, but I hadn't. She followed me and continued to taunt me and ask me to just take a ring already. I refused.
We moved again in May of 1979 to a small house off highway 45 in Metropolis, Illinois. I remember thinking that maybe she wouldn't move with us this time. After all, we had moved half-way across the country. Two or three days into our new home and I was hopeful, but she returned and continued to express her anger.
I didn't realize at the time that I was psychic; I didn't know what that even meant. A little over a year after our initial move to Illinois we moved into the farmhouse where my father had spent most of his life. Finally, I thought she won't come here. This is my family's farm, but she did.
She creeped around our home like she always did, and I could never fully see her. What I saw was blurry air and sometimes the arm that she showed me trying to get me to touch her. I slept a lot. I went to bed early a lot. She kept me up for years at night and I continued to try to protect my younger brother from her menace.
When I turned 14, I started to mourn the tragic loss of my brother in 1976. It hit me out of the blue. I carried around my brother's picture, crying for weeks. We didn't have central air, in fact, the old farmhouse still uses window units to cool parts of the house. At the time, we only used window units in the kitchen/living room, and my parents bedroom. My younger brother and I would get to sleep on the sofa bed during the hottest of nights and on this one night sometime in July of 1985, I woke up to the most wonderful feeling. At the foot of the sofa bed I saw my brother again, solid as if he'd never been gone. "Tigger, stop crying. I'm okay." And he waved to me as he faded slowly and disappeared, but I could feel his love all over my body. I had never been happier. This connection changed me. I knew that there was something about me that was different and I started reading all things metaphysical I could get my hands on. It was this encounter with my brother that gave me the courage to finally stand up to that nasty woman who had wanted something from me.
A few months later she woke me up again. I couldn't see her but I could hear her calling me names. She said she was tired of waiting and that I needed to take one of these rings, now. I felt the anger rise in my body. I felt the frustration and the exhaustion from years of being tormented and I finally got the courage to stand up to her. "Leave me alone. I never want to see you again. Leave now and never come back!" I was worried that I would wake up my family and I did my best not to scream. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt the air clear and the energy shift. She was gone.
In alchemy there is a masculine and a feminine energy that lives within us called the divine masculine and feminine. They can be seen as a sun and moon in traditional alchemical representation. The sun being masculine and the moon feminine. These energies start out pure, untainted by our life experiences.
During the course of our lives we alter, forget, and sometimes even replace them with imposters. The result is a sun that burns too hot (anger), and a moon that withdrawals completely (depression). I call it the angry sun/sad moon dynamic. But this is also a part of the alchemical process that transforms us.
Art Credit: Vickie Wade
The only way out is through and the only way to heal those parts of ourselves is to identify the seeds of fear and doubt that we bury deep within our subconscious and love them anyway.
I recognize that I have been in an alchemical transformation for many years. Trying to understand who I really am. I decided to honor my inner masculine and feminine by telling the story of how they found one another. I hope that this short story awakens the true masculine and feminine fires that are aglow within you.
Samuel and Isabella: A Love Story
Samuel opened the blinds. It was morning and the sun pierced through the blinds illuminating his face; he greeted it with a gentle grin. It had only been a week since moving into his new apartment, but he was already settled. He kept his things to a bare minimum giving him the resources he needed to travel and experience all that life had to offer. He didn’t spend much time watching television, though he enjoyed a good film from time to time. He spent his childhood exploring the outdoors and observing both animals and plants. He reflected on it often, keeping many journals that he had started crafting as early as nine years old.
He wasn’t antisocial or withdrawn, having many supportive friends with whom he spent a lot of time laughing. He just didn’t need to be surrounded by people all the time. He felt comfortable in his own skin and enjoyed his own company. One of his absolute favorite activities was going camping under the stars, finding solace in the stillness and a kinship with the stars. He was outgoing and kind and often found himself losing track of time sharing stories with people of all ages. He was grateful for the time he got to spend with his family and loved them dearly. He enjoyed music and dancing. It was almost as important to him as sleeping. He felt equal love for the beach and the forest spending his time in both when he could. He had a deep love of horses and felt drawn to them, not just for the pleasure of riding but for the mystical connection they seemed to have with each other. Samuel felt complete within himself. He never felt alone even when he was physically so, knowing that his angels, guides, and ancestors kept him company in his heart. He was guided by love and grateful for every breath he could muster in his human body. Samuel only had one solitary goal in life, to find happiness wherever he found himself.
Isabella sat quietly on her deck wrapped in her favorite blanket looking up at the stars, sipping her warm spiced apple cider. The fall brought early darkness to the earth, slowly and gently preparing her for winter’s slumber and Isabella loved it. The full moon revealed the stillness of the night around her. Her small fire table providing enough warmth and light for her to sit outside every night before bed, weather permitting.
Isabella had always been fond of the night, the quiet calm. Even as a little girl she wanted to be outside with evening’s creatures – the bats, owls, and other nocturnal wonders that were hidden at morning’s light. She felt the rhythms of nature, and knew that fall was coming when the fireflies stopped dancing and the frogs stopped sharing their stories.
She stayed up way too late in the summers chasing the moon through the fields, sometimes being caught in the rain intentionally. All of the seasons meant something to her, but fall was her favorite. It was calming and relaxing – a nice change from the hectic daily life that so many of Isabella’s friends endured. She loved to sing and dance and found herself doing so when no one was watching. She was a very private gentle soul that exuded a sort of strength just by being. She always seemed to make people feel at home no matter where they were. People loved her and she loved them, but she always found her best moments were when she sat quietly one-on-one with someone in the silence. Peace was all she wanted in life and she made it wherever she went, it made her happy.
Isabella felt something familiar when she started walking in the woods, the moon guided her to a clearing where the trees had covered the forest floor with leaves of gold and red. She giggled as a fox dashed off from its hiding place, seemingly laughing that it had been discovered. She sat on a log that nature had left nearly hollow for the foragers that would certainly go to bed for the winter. The evening was bright and Isabella could still see her fire pit from the distance. She heard her keys drop and frantically searched for them, but it was no use. She would need to return in the morning to look for them.
Samuel decided to go for a walk in the woods one morning, but he didn’t understand why. He just felt the need to go and be with the trees. That’s when he saw Isabella for the very first time on her hands and knees in a small clearing digging in the leaves. When she looked up at him, he thought his heart would leap out of his chest as it wanted nothing more than to be a part of her world. She smiled at him gently and he became immediately connected to something invisible. She was mysterious and still and exuded a quiet strength that seemed familiar. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. The softness of her face and the curves of her body seemed to call him home. He wanted to share everything with her and he knew immediately that she felt something, too.
“I know this looks funny, right? I came out to this clearing last night and dropped my keys. They’re here somewhere unless that silly fox came back and put them somewhere.”
“Yes, I startled a fox last night. I think it was probably getting ready to get up anyway, but it was laughing. They’re so clever.”
Isabella looked up at Sam and noticed the warmth of his face and the kindness behind his eyes. It was a familiar warmth. It reminded her of her father when she was a girl. The man who had shaped her life and given her mother the support and love she wanted and needed. The man who had given her the courage to be completely genuine. He was the reason she had become a writer. He saw something in her – a reflection of himself and his potential and had encouraged her all her life to seek her joy. He had taught her about the constellations and all the creatures of the earth. Her mother had taught her things, too. Her love was dancing and music and she shared her gifts with Isabella. She knew her parents were gifts to her – and her gratitude swelled for them even now as they had begun to age.
Isabella couldn’t take her eyes off of Samuel. She was mesmerized. He was the perfect embodiment of a man. He seemed strong and confident and sure of his footing. He seemed to know exactly where he was going and then he found her keys.
“Are these your keys?” Samuel held them up almost laughing.
“Yes, those are my keys. Thank you…”
“Samuel, I’m Samuel.”
I’m Isabella.” As Samuel handed Isabella her keys, their hands brushed and she got an electric wave of energy surging through her. A tear escaped from her right eye. Samuel noticed but didn’t call it out, thinking how beautiful it was that she felt so deeply. As she started to leave the clearing she turned to him.
“This may sound a bit odd, but would you want to share a cup of coffee with me? I started the pot before I came out here. You can see my home from here.”
“Yes, I would love that. I have a little time this morning.”
“May I ask what you were doing in the woods this morning?”
Samuel pulled out a small leather journal from his pocket, “Oh, sure. I just moved here about a week ago. I was collecting leaves and documenting the plant life here. I’ve been studying plants and animals since I was a boy. I wanted to get a few together before I got too busy today. Saturdays are my day for exploring and errands. Why were you in the woods at night?”
“I was following the moon. It sounds crazy, right? I love the night sky. There’s nothing more peaceful.”
Samuel and Isabella arrived at her home and she walked into the kitchen from the deck the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. They stood face to face in the kitchen in a moment of silence and knew it was the beginning of their happily ever after.
I started my professional journey on January 9, 1997 when a close friend decided he wanted me to move to Chicago for his birthday. When he asked me to pack my things and be ready for him, I didn't take him seriously. Much to my surprise, he showed up six hours later with a friend and convinced me to take a leap of faith.
The next thing I knew I was working as a temp, learning my way around the city, and getting used to taking public transportation. He and his partner lived in an area of Chicago called Uptown, just off of Lawrence avenue. They were gracious hosts and allowed me to stay with them until I could get on my feet. It was one of the greatest gifts of my life.
While staying with them, I took the "L" train downtown to various locations in the city where I was assigned. I walked past the infamous Green Mill that was once one of the favorite spots for Chicago's notorious gangster, Al Capone. Across the street from the train platform was the Aragon Ballroom where I was fortunate to enjoy several music venues.
My first experience with public transportation was brutal. The cold wind causing my eyes to tear and both the condensation from my breath and tears stinging my face as they froze. I was not adept at dealing with the cold and I'd not been without my own vehicle since I was 16-years-old. I contemplated many times if the move was worth it, but I told myself over and over again if I wanted to get anywhere in life I had to take some calculated risks.
It was during the dot.com boom that I moved, so I was fortunate to always seem to find work. Chicago being the third largest city in the U.S. had its advantages as well as its disadvantages. One of the first things I learned while taking public transportation was that there was a lot of homelessness, alcoholism, drug addiction, prostitution, and desperation that was exacerbated by the harsh conditions of city life and extreme weather. No matter where you go, there are risks.
There was a homeless shelter just down the street from the train station. There was a drug rehabilitation center just down the street from the train station. As a sensitive person, it was heartbreaking to see the level of suffering that was obvious. Many people didn't see it. They didn't see the people pandering for money at the train station. They didn't see the homeless people dirty and disheveled that were very obviously, mentally ill. They didn't see the addicts that were having seizures in the alleys. Most people learned to tune it out, but I noticed.
One day on my way to work at PR Newswire sometime in May, I got on the "L" as usual and sat down next to a nurse in all white. She was reading a romance novel. A platform full of people had gotten onto the train with me. There were plenty of seats, which was rare. A man had gotten onto the train with me. He was obviously different dressed in suspenders, bowtie, jeans and rotund. He sat directly across from me and stared at me, holding a brown bag directly under his chin.
When the train approached each stop, the conductor would call out the stop. "Next stop, Addison, next stop, Addison." The purpose of the announcement was to help people who were too caught up in their distractions to get off on their correct stop. When the train slowly pulled to a stop at Addison, the stop that is next to Wrigley Field, the man jumped up from his seat pushing down his brown bag lunch to his waist. He walked up to me quickly and yelled "May I call you for a date?" and hurriedly exited the platform. When the doors closed I was in shock. My heart was racing and I wasn't sure if I should be concerned or not. No one seemed affected at all. I turned to the nurse next to me and asked her if she had seen what had just occurred. She broke from her book, looked up at me and replied, "Oh yes, nothing to worry about. I know him. He has Tourettes. That's actually the nicest series of things I've ever heard him say." And she reopened her book and ignored me for the rest of the ride. That was my first unusual experience with public transportation.
During the time I took public transportation in Chicago I had my wallet stolen, got propositioned, my life threatened, witnessed men masturbating, and fought off a man who tried to put me in his car. My small-town innocence and naivety was quickly replaced with street smarts. I was really grateful that I had spent time during college learning martial arts, it gave me a sense of confidence that allowed me to respond to danger appropriately.
Despite all the madness of the city, I learned a lot about myself and I grew both personally and professionally. I learned that I enjoyed writing more than anything. I got my editorial beginnings at PR Newswire. If I hadn't gone to Chicago I don't know where I'd be today, but I definitely wouldn't be here.
Every day is a new adventure. Live life fearlessly. Love endlessly.