𝐁𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐗𝐈
衛ゑニ
𝐵𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒸é♡︎
Growing up in my adolescence stage, I began to dream of enduring that same fairytale love my parents embodied since I could remember. No matter what they both discussed or went through behind the curtains of their bedroom door, in front of my sister, Solange, and me, we both witnessed a couple pair of melanated beings, loving each other as if their hearts were merged into one thumping beat. Black love.
They were that ideal couple in my eyes. Others of my generation looked up to celebrities of a certain caliber, but I had all I needed, idolizing the pair of adults residing right inside the Knowles' household.
You see, they raised us in a healthy environment. So healthy to the point I've never been a bystander of their arguments or disagreement encounters. For all I know, they were in agreement most, if not all the time.
But behind that curtain, daddy was sick. He was very ill and in pain for years battling sickle cell. Blessed enough, Solange and I only have the trait so we've never had to sustain the pricking that daddy did. He was strong, he was a fighter. He is a fighter because he's still alive and doing well when most brown and black people of this dimension rarely make it past a certain age.
Now here I was, witnessing the same situation. Filling all areas of my mother's shoes as I eyed my soulmate laying beneath the thick cotton blanket, in a white and blue hospital gown covering her nudeness. I have to be strong like mama was. Never have I once considered giving up on my love. Through sickness and health, I was her backbone.
And I would never in a million years consider living the rest of my life without her in it.
The room was purely quiet to the point you'd think my sound was off if it weren't for the sake of the ongoing beeps of the heart monitor. My sleeping beauty lied in the midst of the hospital bed, lightly snoring through her nose as she rested unruffled. I was grateful to be informed by the doctor that she was only experiencing drowsiness and blurred vision which triggered her body to shut down, collapsing onto the floor in the first place. She was having one of those days.
Days where you couldn't see it coming but expected to show face every once in a while. Days you couldn't really prepare for but hoped to God it wasn't as bad as the last time. Days you're hoping to never experience again, hoping that the last day was the end all be all, but sadly, that day appears anyway, and all you're left with is to deal with the circumstances.
The moment Robyn awakens, I just want to hug her and love on her. Kiss them lips a few times and caress her soft skin gently like a baby. The petty arguments are never worth it when you have a love this heavy for someone.
I wasn't even the one indisposed, and yet, I could still feel her pain. That's the thing about twin flames. I'm a reflection of her. I'm the coequal mirror that may have indifferences in certain areas, but within, I was red and Robyn was magenta.
I've been sitting in the plush recliner chair for about an hour now since the medical team confirmed she's stable and resting. She still smells like herself. Sweet and citrusy. Her brown pigment saturated back inside her caramel skin like it never left. And although I was exposed to every emotion there was, I was most of all grateful. Grateful just have my Robyn for more days. Years.
