I austerely swore to uphold my "just keep living" motto. Just keep living as though I'd never been involved with someone who seemed too loveable and compatible with me to ever be real. Someone I thought I could only dream up. I thought he'd had enough of me, so I swore to just keep on living.

After all of my fruitless bar trip attempts to reconstruct my single life, Sunday night, in astute angel sign, a huge halo formed around a nearly full moon. Rather than enable my drunkenness further, keep living but killing my liver didn't make sense, I decided to have a much needed mellow night at home. Outside, the starry air radiated refreshed seasonal crispness, an ideal night to lounge in the lawn chairs in the backyard and fake knowing each constellation spangled in the sky. Christmas lights and chimney fires filled each corner of the blackening horizon. The evening drug by slowly, but for the first time in weeks, I felt absolution in my soul. I expected nothing, but the hapless image of the last time I kissed Joshua, preceded to flap in my brain like the wing of a broken bird. A bird broken on the inside, but still capable of flying away alone.

After a while, I lit a fire, said some love blessings over the flames, and then went indoors to work on the book. I had hundreds of things I wanted to say. Suddenly, my phone rang and sent the mental illustrations to blank. It was Joshua calling. The same Joshua who fled from a repeat visit only five days prior. My heart takes off like a horse at the Kentucky derby. I knew this call was coming, I knew he had put it off until the last possible moment.

It was 12:15 Am. "Uh Mary, did I wake you?" His voice, the deep voice again. Why do my knees collapse under the sound of his voice?

I located speech cautiously, only to disguise how fast my love valve was still pumping. "No Jesus Joshua, you did not wake me. I was working on my book. Just writing." I said flatly.

"I've been driving from Atlanta, I'm 20 minutes away from your house." Subtle pause. "I could use a nap." The tone of hopefulness harpooned the line.

"A map or a nap? Because I don't think you don't have any idea where you are going and are in need of motherly direction. Maybe I should just print you out a map and bless you and send you on your way." What am I saying? Turn the cold bitch switch off Jessica.

He mumbles unintelligibly and bites his bashfulness. I wanted to tell him my house is not Mary's international house of blow jobs, assert that he couldn't just come by to cum and nap and then run, but I loose my footing to the pounding of my heart, still clattering away under my ribs. Josh says nothing about my tentative trip to the Bahamas--the trip that does not exist and was merely hatched in a spur of potential rejection and shame. I do nothing to jog his memory of that conversation...a new low point on the dating Richter scale, definitely.

I sigh. "Just tell me what you need Joshua." By this point, I am not only in love with him, but I am in love with the way his name rolls off of my tongue.

"I just need to sleep for a few hours." He says tiresomely.

"Come on over. I'll wait up for you." My voice turned romantic.

Half an hour later, he arrives. I instantly let him in the front door, march him by the newly erected Christmas tree, infusing the whole house with the fragrance of pine. He nudges the small of my back and then I lead him into the den. For fleeting artful seconds, he admires the fake Monet mural I had painted on a wall. I walk backwards and allow plenty of space to form between our bodies. My golden retriever comes tearing down the stairs, whips around the corner, and sniffs all over Joshua. Irritated, I yell at the damn dog.

"Moose, knock it off!" I scold. "Sorry Josh." My hair flows and hangs over my left shoulder as I lean in and drag the copper dog away from the pretty man. Josh catches the telling vibe that I have issues with the dog.

"You don't like your dog? I like your dog." The slight lines on his young face shift and then smooth as his heart shaped mouth arches and becomes motionless.

"I don't know if you'd like him as much if you were the one cleaning up after him." My mind flashes with pictures of dirt tracked floors and piles of dog shit on the brand new hard wood where the dog had accident after accident because he's getting old and has lost bowel control.

I am not a complainer, but just be patient with me while I explain the dog story. That damn dog is not even mine! Moose is my brother's dog, the brother who irresponsibly dumped him off here and refuses to care for him---Which means I get stuck cleaning up all of the dirt and dog hair and dog shit that somehow scatters all over the house. It's not that I don't like dogs, but I am a neat freak. I would rather pet someone else's dog and stick to being a cat person. I did not want the dog, it is at least a 13 year commitment, it was not my choice to include that species of pet in this household. Every time I have to clean up more dog tracks, I curse my brother for being so self-involved. My brother is obsessed with movies and video games, after he lost interest in taking care of the dog, he went and bought the next fad game system and has since become too preoccupied with virtual reality to escape it long enough to care for a living thing. Yet, anytime my brother decides to grace me with his presence, he starts in on me about how my six year old daughter is an accident and I am such a bad person because I had reckless sex close to seven years ago and got pregnant. I am convinced he only does this to downplay the fact he has not really attempted to be much of an Uncle or even tried to love Aurora...another living thing who has become nothing more than a target in his video game programmed mind. I spare Joshua the rant of family dog drama.

I keep a safe distance from the magnet that is his field of divine love. My arms folded as I rocked awkwardly, locking my knees and focusing on keeping my weight in motion so I don't start convulsing in how much I am in love with Joshua. Still in awe of his lustrous blond hair, perfect height, and the masculine way he towers over me, I roll my eyesight every which direction so as not reveal the love smoldering in my eyes. Then I peek at him and can't turn away. I willfully try not to look for Layne in his face again and swiftly point my chin away to keep from staring into Joshua's feathered, blue jay tinted eyes, now watching my every twitch. He's so observant all the time. Or he just likes looking at me.

His eyebrows taper up. "Why are you being weird? Come here." He commands as his arms open up.
I rush over and press my head into his chest. His heart is beating comparably feverish to my own. Excited in my giddy tub of dual gratitude, I rise onto my toes, nudging the crown of my red head playfully under his brassy goatee. Volts of pure love are permeable in his arms, I feel as though I am hugging static clothes fresh out of the dyer. I hold on until he pries me loose. I wish I could stitch my arms around his waist.

After we'd made our way upstairs, Josh broaches the telepathy.

"I hope you can understand why I'm skeptical... I've just never met someone who could read my thoughts." The pitch of maturity masks his innocence for a few seconds. I can't decide if he's legitimately curious or concerned over possible vulnerability. The only reason he needs to be concerned is if he has something to hide.
"I understand." I promised sweetly. "I'm not trying to force you to believe either way and I don't want it to ever come across as threatening to you. I don't mean to eavesdrop. But sometimes, if I still myself, I can hear your thoughts speeding over the airwaves. It's gotten so intense that I have to put in the itunes or turn the TV up real loud just to muffle the sound of your voice." I try to chuckle to lighten up the topic, but the laughter does nothing but make my nervousness obvious.

"But we don't even know each other that well." He said frankly.

"I think we knew each other in Atlantis, I think that's one of the reasons we clicked and are wired to be so in tune with each other. I used to work with Jesus in Atlantis."

"Atlantis like the sunken city?"

"Yes, all of the Atlanteans are reincarnating now. Most of the Aquarius creatures of today are former residents of Atlantis. I believe I know you from there." I said warmly.

He grins and acts receptive to what I am saying. At least we are getting somewhere. I can't blurt out that I loved him before I met him and risk ruining my limpidly blind plot to marry him, so I might as well divulge a possible soul history and let his imagination fill in the gaps.

"So you believe in reincarnation? I haven't really thought about it before I guess." He informs me.

"Reincarnation is in the bible if you read between the lines. Thoth was Jesus, the Emerald Tablets of Thoth read like the verses of Jesus if you really dig into it. During his life, Jesus suggested that John the Baptist was the prophet Elijah reincarnated. Elijah ordered his enemies be beheaded and consequently, John the Baptist was ultimately beheaded---supposedly because of a preexisting karmic condition. It's the same as the story Jesus told of the man being born blind. Jesus suggests the blindness came unto him because of selfish, unsightly deeds in another life. That which you do unto others will be done to you...in one life or another. If you make fun of kids with downs syndrome, you will be born in another life with that condition or your child could be born with that condition. This is not punishment, but spiritual correction, so the soul may learn not to belittle the life, appearance, or mentality of another. If John wasn't granted immunity, then none of us can escape the effects of negative causes either." I grow silent and remember to take a breath.

"Wow. That is a lot of information." He smiles at me approvingly, but a tad overwhelmed by what was said. His eyebrows furrow and his lips squash together as he nods intellectually. I feel like I am supposed to play teacher to him before we play 7 minutes in heaven.
His tall, slender frame stretches out across the bed as he inquires, "Have you ever thought about going to see a psychic specialist to fine tune your abilities? You know like Dr. Jean Gray going to train with the professor?"

Flabbergasted he's humoring me, "Yeah I guess I am kind of like her." I hope that doesn't mean I am going to turn into an unstoppable Phoenix, lose control of my abilities all together, and trigger mass combustive energy haywire.
"I guess you could say Jesus is my specialist. He mostly just advises me to lead by example and let people see how much he loves me. He's never made me feel like it's necessary to be a perfectionist about the psychic skills, but there are times I wish I could properly identify whose voice I am hearing. I'm self-taught for the most part, but give so much credit to the angels for offering unconditional support. I try to do recommended exercises in an effort to develop any latent abilities to their maximum function...but I am not sure how much more I want to hear anyway..."

"Why? It sounds exciting. You're like a reluctant spy." His blue eyes open wildly and then fall closed. His eyes have been glued to the pavement for the last six hours and gratefully steal a rest.

"Well, I've seen plane crashes before they occur and I've heard and seen couples fighting to the point it upsets me to be exposed to it. Makes it really awful to be spiritually gifted on some days." I said acidly.

He turns over onto his left side and mashes up another purple pillow under the flawless figure of his blond head. I stare at his goatee, enchanted by the tiny details that define his face. I love the way my chin feels against his goatee when I'm kissing him. Kissing Joshua all over has become my new favorite thing to do.

"Who was fighting??" He asked suspiciously.

"The two couples I have seen most regularly are my ex boyfriend and the girl he kept around instead of keeping me." I fade into quietness and think of the small blond boy I saw crying in a dream. I grimace at the thought of his parents clawing at each other. I exhale. "And I see a famous person and his wife in heated arguments sometimes." I note somberly.

"That's strange. I wonder why you can see that." He voice skidded in uncertainty.

"Well, with the ex, I think God wants me to know that the choice he made to pick the other woman over me has since brought pain and consequences into his life. With the famous man...well... it's... I don't know." I trail off and divert my eyes from fanning over Josh again. I feel my forehead crinkle up. I don't know how much he will believe about the whole dream affair or if he'll understand. No one does.

"I guess with the famous dude....I just wanted to be there for him in some way. The dreams were the only option of offering him support and I was somehow exposed to seeing his martial problems. My astral body likes to spend time in the same dream sphere and any conflict in his life is projected on that level for me to see." I estimated weakly. My throat burned as I tried to allow the bubbles of resentment to float through me unnoticed.

"That would drive me crazy, if I had to deal with other peoples problems too." His eyes gradually opened, just long enough for me to steal a glance into his soul. A mirror of the most flattering kind.

I croaked. "No joke, it's like being given the position of an astral relationship counselor but frozen unable to do anything about it in reality. It's frustrating and fascinating at the same time. I will say this though, seeing other peoples relationship turmoil has helped me to see and understand what type of relationship I don't want! So there is some good in being a third person witness, it will make me better for my husband someday."

Joshua's blond hair glowed under the single lamp light, casting golden rays over his cheeks as they flexed. His eyes opened wider than the moon and swished with cobalt sparks. Then he became startlingly serious and murmured, "Marry me Mary."