A Right Need

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A middle-aged woman's emancipation from her wrong attachment to her mother and the healing she receives through the discovery of the right need for love.

Submitted: December 26, 2014

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Submitted: December 26, 2014



“Love calls out to receive love, and love understands a right need for love,” he whispered.  A right need for love?  What did he mean by that?  After six marriages I knew plenty about the wrong need for love.  But, the right need, if there was such a thing, seemed too ludicrous a concept.

“What is it that you want most from your mother, my beloved?”  He asked as if he had just read my mind.

“Her love, of course,” I said as a matter of fact because that’s all it was since I never felt I had it. 

He just stared as if to let me finish. 

I guess what I meant by that was I wanted to know that she loved me, truly loved me and took interest in me.  You know, like how she’s supposed to care about her child’s natural endowments—my gifts and talents and all.  Ok, so if I had to be specific, to brush and braid my hair and make me feel pretty.  Then I might think I was ok looking.  I wanted her to think and tell me that I was special in my own unique way.  Not too thin, or lanky, but built for some special reason that needed me that way. Damn!  I shouldn’t have to be answering this question so late in my life. 

Would it be too much to simply act as if she cared? I said.  All of my life I felt as if she didn’t care.  I was just someone she could depend on to always love her and be there without having to give the same to me in return.

“And, hasn’t that been the way it is in every relationship you’ve had in your life?” he interrupted with such perfect timing because I don’t think I could have bared to take one more step down that pain stricken memory lane.

 “Hasn’t it been this way with all of the men, the husbands, the employers, the friends, your children even?”  He went on, knowing full well that it was the truth. 

“Yes,” I replied.  It was short and honest.  The question and the answer alike was in my living.

I felt myself released from something so cruel and torturous.Her secret had been unveiled.  The spell she had cast over my life and relationships was suddenly broken with the pointed asking of his question and the complexity behind my simple answer.

“Is this love?” he asked. 

“Only on my part, I guess,” was the only response I could give.  I was free but not fully emancipated.

And then, what he said next sutured the place in my soul where he had just removed the cancerous growth that had made my life sick with disappointment and despair. 

“No, my beloved. Love is like a river that flows both ways.  A miraculous occurrence in life.  If it is only one way, it is not love my beloved.”

“Well then what is it?” I humbly yielded my ignorance.

“Obligation,” he said.  “Duty, service, enslavement . . . bondage. Love is freedom, peace from entanglements, from fear of the unknown.  It is not controlled or calculated.  It flows freely from both channels into one source.  And that source, my beloved, draws them together there in oneness and peace.”

© Copyright 2019 Camille Leon. All rights reserved.

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