― Sylvia Plath
Brooke
I'm staring into the fire contemplating the riddle of existence. It all seems so futile to me.
When I was in university, I convinced myself the universe was nothing but a mechanistic machine and plants and animals were unconscious automata. I really believed everything was made of inanimate matter, the only exception being my mind, or soul and God, angels and demons. Such was my Catholic cosmology and even then I wasn't sure spiritual beings existed.
That's why this whole business of being under demonic attack is so foreign to me―it upends my view of the universe and makes me question everything.
If I believe in spirit, then I have to accept Angelica is a clairvoyant and perhaps the universe has been showing me we are meant to be together. If I have a soul, then she's the other half of me.
QED. Problem's solved. Seems simple enough to me.
Only problem is my heart isn't at peace. The world, the flesh and the devil―how do I reconcile these three?
Brooke comes downstairs so quietly and with such a pale face she reminds me of Sidney's sonnet, With How Sad Steps. What is it about her that wrings my heart and wants me want to take her in my arms and console her?
"I couldn't sleep," she sighs, "Is it all right if I join you?"
"Of course, it's alright. I welcome your company. It's dark and rainy again, but always cheerful by the fire."
She slides in beside me and I drape my arm over her. There's a niche she fills right beneath my shoulder. All I know is that before her there was nothing and I was unaware how empty it felt.
I lay my head on hers and inhale the fresh scent of outdoors which is strange because she's just been sleeping. She's a wood nymph or dryad, I muse, with a soft, sweet presence...
Easy for me to say such things under the sway of her goddess, but what has happened to my agnostic heart that she can so easily invade it?
It dawns on me how right it feels being with her and wanting this moment to go on forever. Angelica said it best―Brooke's my life mate and comes closest to fulfilling me.
I'm such an idiot. I can see things at a distance but have a blind spot when people come up close.
Suddenly, I'm seeing things through a new lens—the room falls away and I have a vision of our lives before me—so simple and free, I don’t know why I couldn’t see it previously.
I see us over coffee each morning, walking in woods at twilight, lying under stars and finally, with our children.
I never saw myself as a family man, but I happen to glance down and see I’ve instinctively taken her hand and enfolded it in mine.
I no longer feel the two parts of me are divided and grinding against each other.
I finally feel at peace.