/lit/ - Literature

>>10282338
>What do you say though to those that don't make it? The older I get the harder it's gotten for me. Now I am genuinely scared. Scared that after my hard work a girl like that will appear but only interested what I can provide.
Then I would tell you the story of my uncle who is the brother of the man I have written about in this thread. He was married for 20 years, had two grown sons, and life was going well until his bitch wife went psycho and destroyed his life with the most brutal conniving divorce you could imagine. However, do not let that sway you. Two years after that ordeal, he was in his 50s and met the absolute love of his life, a secretary about his age wo workwas d for a rival lawfirm. When you talk to them about how they met, the first thing we see is her face light up and turn all rosy, as she says “I didn’t even see him, I just heard this wonderful laugh that captured my heart.” The two of them have been married for 15 years and could not be happier. She also came from an abusive situation like my uncle did, and the two of them bonded over that. My whole family always had a bad gut feeling about the first wife, but this second one? We all absolutely adore her. If my parents taught me that true young love was possible, then my uncle taught me that it is never too late for the same exact thing.
>Can you give more details about their story? It gives me hope.
About my parents? You know, I’m not sure there’s much more to it than that. I honestly think that just like with abuse cycles that span generations, the same happens with good families too. Both of my parents had parents with wonderful marriages, so a lot of what’s responsible for their success I believe is that they too had good models of relationship behavior, something which was passed down to me.

I know that when my mother met my father, she smoked cigarettes, and he couldn’t stand it. She quit because he told her that he really cared about her and wanted her to be healthy, and she liked that he cared enough about her to approach it in that way. She never smoked again. They both think very differently. My mother is one of the most socially intelligent people I have ever met. She’s excellent at networking, finding jobs, and navigating business environments, and persuading people. However, she’s horrible at math and analytical thinking while my father is one of the most intelligent people I know academically. He can’t navigate a social situation for shit, or make a business deal if his life depended on it, but he can do complex equations and spit back complex economic theories like it’s nothing. He and I read Dostoevsky together for fun.

They both recognize these things, communicate consciousy an openly about everything in their lives, and understand how important and healthy it is to fight with one another as a means of processing and reconciling the problems they face together. That is what they’ve taught me by example.

Ever since that day I've been having a lot of abstractions. My concentration seems to dive in some kind of visual thought [each objective element represents and fully characterizes a whole subjective concept]. It was a scene of crepuscular sunbeams, while riding the bus to my home.
1) The Sky. Vast, the matrix of the landscape. The womb. The feminine, encompassing the other elements (its children).
2) The Clouds. Big masses of gas riding the sky, forever moving, forever forward. Were they ignorant of what they were causing? Were they aware of their movement? Did the Hills resent the clouds for allowing shadows and light?
3) The Sun. Perfectly. A circumference of yellow fire. Irradiating its presence to the unknown and the known.
4) The Light. The sunbeams, projections of the Sun. They are not the same than the Sun, but each one of them has the Sun inside itself. Yet they create something different -intrinsically bound and related to the Sun, yes, but radically different- they carry the Sun to the Hills. Sky and Clouds they go through, Hills they get to.
5) The Hills. The earth. They receive the light and the shadow (made by the Sun and the Clouds).
6) The Observer. Only from this window of the bus and this time of the day and this day I am able to see this. I'd like to be on the top of the tallest Hill. But then I wouldn't be able to see this. I'd see the Sky. No sunbeams and no Hills. I'd see Valleys and Wind and Grass.
It's still unclear to me what element I represent in this vision, and what element/s I'm supposed to thrive for. For now, I'm the Observer. I was the Light for a couple of minutes and the Sky immediately after that.
I feel I'm still missing one element (maybe a non-element), but that was what I could discern from this experience.
It looked something like pic related.