tagNon-EroticI Am Loved

I Am Loved


"Count backwards from ten," a voice said.

"Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... fi... " Blackness.

Down into the nothingness where no pain, no sensation is felt.

"Who is that down there lying so still, lights glaring down, surrounded by people in green gowns?"

I see the face, pale and mask like and I know it but cannot remember who it is. What are they doing to her, those gowned figures and how do I know it is "her"?

I know it but do not know why I know it.

A vortex and I am slowly rotating and leaving the scene below me. The figure lying there and those around her gradually disappear as I am drawn away, gently spinning down long a tunnel.

They are gone and I am spinning faster in a children's kaleidoscope of brilliantly coloured patterns; drawn along by some unseen and gentle influence.

I am loved... I know I am loved... the unseen power tells me wordlessly I am loved. I, the unlovable, am loved.

In the far distance amid the ever-changing patterns and colours I see a light that grows brighter and nearer. I spin towards it and I am out of the tunnel.

I am in a place that is no place. There is no up, down or sideways. I seem to stand on something but the something I cannot see.

I am in a mist, but not the dark mist or fogs of moisture and pollution. It is a bright mist without sensation or substance. It embraces me and I feel no physical touch but know it is the embrace of welcome.

If I am loved and cared for, I must be; I am; but who am I?

I try to remember who the "I" is and there is only a dark shadow of pain. I cease trying to remember.

The mist is retreating, dissolving and I am no longer in a misty embrace. Shapes emerge, strange and without form at first, then gradually becoming distinguishable.

There are trees; tall trees and beneath them underbrush of low bushes. The mist has gone; my feet are on solid, visible grass and earth. I am in a grove that I know well, but do not know why I know it.

As I puzzle over this knowledge a voice behind me says: "Do not be puzzled, Catriona, this is your grove; the grove of your own thoughts."

Yes, of course! The grove I escape to when the pain and misery grows too much; the place in my mind where I find peace amid the confusion and violence.

I turn to see who spoke, and there is a man standing there; he is naked.

Somehow I know I have seen many naked men; endless successions of them; old men bent and withered; young men pimpled and anxious; brutal men, lonely men. How have I known them...?

I look at the man standing before me, trying to discern his age and evaluate his looks. He is neither young or old, fat or thin, handsome or ugly.

In one instant I see him as young, and then in the next he is old. He changes as I look at him. I cannot hold him in one category or form.

He smiles at me and says in a gentle voice; "Like this grove, I am what you want me to be because, you see, I am of you and part of you."

"Come, Catriona," he goes on, "take my hand and walk with me."

I know him and don't know him. I have learned to fear and have contempt for men, but I do not fear the one who is with me now.

"Do you have a name?" I ask.

"Of course; it is the name you gave me."

I am puzzled for a moment, and then, "Yes, yes... I do know you... Dionysus." I am recalling many things about myself now.

He smiles; "The god of wine, ecstasy and salvation. A strange combination, don't you think?"

"I once read the name in a magazine and liked it so... "

"So you named the man of your visions Dionysus."

We have begun our walk and I notice that we are greeted by many people, all of them walking in pairs; men with women, men with men and women with women. All are naked and for the first time I become conscious of the fact that I am naked.

Some of the couples do not greet us, and instead they are standing, sitting or lying very still, seeming to gazing into each other's eyes. I wonder what they are doing.

Dionysus who seems to know my every thought says, "They are making love, Catriona."

I am puzzled at this. "But they are not coupling... I mean... they aren't having sexual intercourse."

"Not in the way you have come to understand it, Catriona, but they are more closely bonded than any physical penetrations you have experienced."

A wave of revulsion sweeps over me. At first I do not know why, but then a apparition rises before me. I see a room, a small gaudy room with a bed. Men come and go as I lie on the bed.

Some have stiff penises others are flaccid so I have to work on them. Some have small some large penises and they are pushed into me. Some demand that I suck their shafts or let then push it up my anus. Some tie me and beat me, others I tie and beat.

There is pain and the drugs I must take to get through yet another day and night. Half an hour, and then another man, often foul breathed, sweating, unloving, uncaring, and just wanting my body for a brief ejaculation.

There is pain... so much pain... in my head and in my body... I must take something... "Madame, in the name of God give me something for the pain."

"You are safe here, Catriona," says Dionysus. "None will hurt you or take what you do not want to give. This is the place of love... the love you have imagined for so long."

We arrive at a building resembling a summer house and go in. It is peaceful and on the floor are soft sponge like coverings and cushions.

"You may lie here and rest," says Dionysus. "If you do not wish me to be here with you, you have only to dismiss me from your mind."

Experimentally I try to dismiss him, but he does not go.

Dionysus laughed gently; "You do not really want me to go, but I promise you, when you do, I shall be gone."

I reach out to him. "Don't leave me."

We lie together on the cloud like softness of the covered floor. His image has stabilised. He seems a few years older than I; perhaps forty? I lie looking at him and peace engulfs me. I sleep and dream.

"Oh God help me, I cannot bear the pain." I am tied down; he is forcing something into me and there is blood pouring out of my vagina. I am screaming, calling out, "Madame, Madame, help me, he's a psychopath." Madame does not come. No one comes.

I fall sickeningly into a black hole.

There are voices.

"Serious internal injuries"... "Police"... "Immediate surgery."

The ceiling is moving. I am being wheeled somewhere.

"Count backwards from ten... "

"Catriona... Catriona, wake up, you are dreaming a bad dream."

I awake.

Dionysus is smiling at me. "You were dreaming in a dream," he says ambiguously.

I do not understand him, and lie looking at him.

Within myself I am saying, "I love you, I love you." There is burning desire such as I have not felt since long ago when someone loved and desired me. He was coming to me. A plane crashed and he was no more and my life meaning ceased.

I am looking deep into Dionysus' eyes... deep pools of liquid green. He is looking into my eyes and wordlessly he is asking, "Do you wish us to make love?"

"Yes," my mind replies.

We are unmoving and tranquil. Our eyes continue to hold each other in their gaze. I am immersed in warmth. An exquisite stab of ecstasy spears through me, filling me with a sense of utter completeness.

I, Catriona am no longer, and he, Dionysus is no longer. There is only the one, complete and whole. We have melded into one another as it is written, "The two shall become one."

Wave after wave of paradise thrills over and through me; I am fulfilled, I am whole; my life had met the life that is my other half and I am complete at last.

I hear myself softly crying as the delicious pangs of love pervade my entire body and beyond my body they grasp my very soul.

I am loved... I am loved... I...

"Wake up Catriona, its all over, wake up."

Something... someone... blurred... white... where...?

"Time to wake up Catriona everything's all right."

Another voice, calm and detached; "As soon as she's come around properly you can take her back to her room."

A bed... I am on a bed and someone is standing beside the bed.

A white coat... eyes gazing at me, deep pools of liquid green filled with compassion.

Focus... try to focus. Someone in a white coat with an identification badge; "Dion, Registered Nurse"; A face I know but how do I know it?

"How do you feel Catriona?" The voice masculine but gentle.

"I... I... feel wonderful."

"Good, then back to your room."

He walks beside me as two people begin to wheel the bed. The ceiling passes overhead and we pass doors and openings to other corridors. Faces pass by, briefly looking at me, but my eyes are fixed on Dionysius... no... Dion... and his eyes on mine.

I am loved.

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