Helena Handbasket
Well-known member
I have often written about "the one who got away", the one person I'd rather be with than any other. I did not realize it at first but he was here, on this web site, posting under the name Mystic. (I still remember that monk or whatever, wearing purple robes, floating.)
Perhaps he was here because he still had some feelings for me, and wanted to know how I was doing, overall; or maybe he considered me a threat and wanted to watch to make sure I wasn't plotting against him. Or maybe he just found ESMB interesting (he was a never-in).
We go back a long way, if you include previous lifetimes. Subconciously, I spent the first part of my life searching for him, not knowing what was driving my behaviour. This explains many seemingly irrational things I did with my life, like suddenly deciding to move to San Francisco in the late '70's.
It was there in Northern California that I finally did meet him for the first time (in this lifetime) and from that moment onward, I just wanted to be near him. The year that followed was one of the best of my life.
But it didn't last. He broke it up with me, and I blame myself for that. I won't go into the juicy details of why, but let's just say my best wasn't good enough. Since the breakup I've been pining for what I've lost. It's because of this breakup I call myself Helena Handbasket.
I've kept hoping we would somehow get back together again, but my chances of that happening were the same as getting struck by lightning on a sunny day while singing the national anthem.
I knew I had blown it, and I knew he didn't want to hear from me again, so I mostly kept away -- but twice I broke down and sent him a letter (unanswered of course). We had extrasensory contact a number of times, which is documented in my thread, Telepathic Sex. But just as I was starting to decide I liked it, it stopped.
Now he's gone. Part of me was hoping that once he died, my pull towards him would wane, and I could be free of missing him at last. But that was not to be. I still want him, and will continue to do so as I pass into the next lifetime (where perhaps we will meet again under more fortuitous circumstances). I was a very messed up individual due to previous lifetime experiences. I was not a good catch.
Farewell, my beloved; and no matter where you end up, I wish you well.
While I'm at it, Mystic was not his real name -- and neither was Gordon. I know his real name (but of course I'm not saying). Today would have been his birthday.
So what do I do now? I must implement that last resort of lonely old ladies all over the world. I'll talk about that in the next thread I write.
Helena
Perhaps he was here because he still had some feelings for me, and wanted to know how I was doing, overall; or maybe he considered me a threat and wanted to watch to make sure I wasn't plotting against him. Or maybe he just found ESMB interesting (he was a never-in).
We go back a long way, if you include previous lifetimes. Subconciously, I spent the first part of my life searching for him, not knowing what was driving my behaviour. This explains many seemingly irrational things I did with my life, like suddenly deciding to move to San Francisco in the late '70's.
It was there in Northern California that I finally did meet him for the first time (in this lifetime) and from that moment onward, I just wanted to be near him. The year that followed was one of the best of my life.
But it didn't last. He broke it up with me, and I blame myself for that. I won't go into the juicy details of why, but let's just say my best wasn't good enough. Since the breakup I've been pining for what I've lost. It's because of this breakup I call myself Helena Handbasket.
I've kept hoping we would somehow get back together again, but my chances of that happening were the same as getting struck by lightning on a sunny day while singing the national anthem.
I knew I had blown it, and I knew he didn't want to hear from me again, so I mostly kept away -- but twice I broke down and sent him a letter (unanswered of course). We had extrasensory contact a number of times, which is documented in my thread, Telepathic Sex. But just as I was starting to decide I liked it, it stopped.
Now he's gone. Part of me was hoping that once he died, my pull towards him would wane, and I could be free of missing him at last. But that was not to be. I still want him, and will continue to do so as I pass into the next lifetime (where perhaps we will meet again under more fortuitous circumstances). I was a very messed up individual due to previous lifetime experiences. I was not a good catch.
Farewell, my beloved; and no matter where you end up, I wish you well.
While I'm at it, Mystic was not his real name -- and neither was Gordon. I know his real name (but of course I'm not saying). Today would have been his birthday.
So what do I do now? I must implement that last resort of lonely old ladies all over the world. I'll talk about that in the next thread I write.
Helena
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