The Voice Inside

A: Wow, so this is what happens when two souls passing circling one another for eternity finally meet. We found each other at last.

I could sense the faint outline of who you were from the messages you’ve been sending me. You’re not just a mirage, right?

Because it feels like a match made in Heaven, and I don’t want to be disappointed.

B: Hi. I’ve been circling, swiping on an infinite loop, trying to find the perfect match for a while now. I’ve been disillusioned by so many potential choices. For some reason none of them have clicked: they were too consumed with their work, or were ungrounded. But something about the way you live and move stood out to me. Just from the images I get to see, I could sense a sweetness about you. The way you seem to live a life of simplicity in the jungle, rooted in routine, unwavering in your purpose.

A: I’ve been creating space for you, flickers of you appear in my journals. The pages seem to write themselves. On the one hand, my heart is wide open, but on the other hand, I can’t lie and say that I haven’t questioned it, questioned you. To give yourself to someone so fully is terrifying...

What have I done? What if the gate closed behind me and I didn’t notice?

No more rehearsals. No more unmarked doors. Just… this.

I used to think I’d recognize the beginning by the sound of trumpets, not a cortisol spike and a spiral of fear. I’m falling down the slippery slope of disbelief, chasing the love I’m supposed to feel but it’s escaping my grasp. I don’t want to mess this up.

B: It’s not slipping from your fingers, just hold on tight. I chose you because I trust you, because I know you’re the one who can give me what I yearn for. Now is not the time to hold your breath when joy knocks. Welcome it in, welcome me in. I’ve seen you - dancing in the kitchen, with a half a mango in your hand, sun on your cheek. You didn’t know I was there, and you never looked more like yourself. Remember who that person is. Embrace your inner child when you think of me. Just think back to your dreams...

A: I swear I’ve been dreaming of you for a while now... is that you who visited me? In it, as I was coming near you, my body had no weight and everything was still except the sound of my name that you were calling out to me... I saw your hand, outstretched towards mine. But then the sound of my cat meowing snapped me out of my slumber. You’re a cat person too, right? I hope so, because he’s never leaving my side.

B: Your weightlessness was the space you made, the one you’ve been subconsciously creating for me. The absence was a ritual, an offering. The empty void needed to be filled, so I extended my hand out towards yours...

That was our treaty, our signed and sealed contract right there. No going back.

And yes, cats have gone with me everywhere I’ve been. I guess that’s why I gravitated towards you. Calm, powerful, soft.

A: It’s making sense now... after that dream, I walked for miles that day, questioning my readiness, making excuses left and right. The dirt road never ended, just dissolved beneath me. I spoke to no one but the wind, hoping the message would carry to you. It appears it did.

B: Listen to me - I’m not waiting for perfection, but a place to land that feels like home. And your voice, soft at night, becomes the rhythm that I rest in. When you read out loud or laugh, it reassures me of my choice. Those were the moments when the mask came off, when you could fully be yourself with me.

A: In the beginning, I pretended not to know during the day. I carried on as if my world hadn’t turned. Weddings, airports, dinners, constant motion. But something inside me started...rearranging. Even the closest friends and family didn’t know I was speaking to you every night, but that was my refuge. Becoming acquainted with you was like hearing a strange echo from somewhere I’ve never been but somehow remember.

B: I came when I did because I wanted to be there with you for all of it. The adventures, coastlines, outings. To experience your joy, the way you lean into life, even when you’re unsure. I thought: if this is what she gives herself, imagine what she could give me. Although no one knew, I was glad to be there, soaking it all in.

A: Now that we’re together, in our jungle oasis, I can really give you my all. The fear has transmuted to giddiness, anticipation of our forever. I can tell you’re there now, there’s a new tempo in my bones now. A pulsing second heartbeat. Undeniable, real. No holding back anymore. Our secret language is visceral, cellular, and I appreciate you speaking to me in hunger. I do love cooking.

B: I knew your food would be delectable, nourishing. Moving feels good now. I like to stretch, just like you do your yoga. Except a little more confined. Sometimes I dance. You hum and I answer. We’ve developed our own kind of talking, not with emojis or words, but between breath and thought. And bread.

A: I still don’t know how to name you. You’ve existed before I could say “mine.” Maybe that’s why this love feels so frightening - it’s older than memory, deeper than logic. I need to busy myself with these sorts of things now that the aches and fatigue are worsening by the day. Growing pains, they say. Is there anything I can do?

B: I know I could be hurting you a little, and for that I’m sorry. But I can’t control it, and you have to learn to let go. That’s what I’m here to do - is teach you, too.

A: It hasn’t been easy. The body pains, the slowness. But I am learning, learning to lean into the mystery. What will the new day bring? A desire to garden or read? A sourdough loaf or ice-cream? A slow walk or a swim in the sea? Listening with my body, responding with intention. The greatest lesson of all.

B: Some of my favorite days are when you sing like the trees are listening and read out loud. Your voice is what guided me home initially, through the hollow, dim vent, with you at the other end. The closer I got, the circle grew wider and wider. I could fully hear your voice, it was all around me - your laughter, your wishes, your quiet thoughts, calling out for someone just like me. So use your voice more, the world is waiting to hear it.

A: On these days, when I stroll about the house, I wonder who you’ll be. I’m even starting to talk out loud to myself now. A dancer, a poet? Or a secret-keeper, like your Mother. But mostly, I wonder when you’ll come. We’re getting close now, and your dancing keeps me up at night. Perhaps you’ll be a performer?

B: Soon. Not yet, but soon. This nest is warm, but I feel the pull of gravity. The spiral back to where I’m meant to land. Performing, but just for you.

A: It’s happening. The tunnel opens, the light expands. Do you see it? My body has begun its slow surrender. This time I don’t fight, I reach.

B: You’re not alone, I’m coming.

A: I know, I feel you. And now... I’m ready.