A Heart Grows with Love | teslastemptress's Blog

 Romance seethes within her passion soaked mind. She reads alone to no one the poetic works of bards that turned to dust so long ago. The Lady adorns herself with elegant costumed flare, in that which is desired by those who seek her warmth. She weaves their dreams and follows their script, as they choreograph their heathen debauchery using her passionate longings. For all that she wants and all that she needs she seeks from cold empty hearts. They promise her gifts and loves forever bliss, as she bows to their wants and their needs. The tears she sheds are not for the souls of the wanton men who seek her heart for their moment. They cannot know what lurks inside the beauty she uses as a shield. Her craft painstakingly perfected from the mistakes she scraped up off of the floor. Gaping holes of despair replace the always missing pieces that will never be found. Over and over she fails to succeed in securing the legacy of true love. Each pain one at a time tears away at her heart filled with joy, and they bleed her forgiving soul. Her sobs are not for all the selfish ones, the abusive ones, the users, the liars and the cheats, whose empty eyes haunt her when her lids are closed. The aches she feels within are her weapons against the emptiness, the stillness, the coldness she has absorbed from them. The good men that approach her with pure hearts She will turn against and push away. All the rest She will try to offend and send them packing, with her cold beauty, her new boldness, her brashness her bawdiness. They cannot break a heart that refuses to feel. She replaces the love that most do not want and instead breathes the passions of lust and lewdness that they eagerly seek. A user cannot be used. Lust replaces love, as partner becomes accomplice. Meeting the primal needs of the flesh, she has found her reveling place. For each performance she feels the need to bow, and curtsey. Giving up her very soul, the angel starts to die. Who would want her as a bride now with her goodness sullied by the garish performances of her past? Her wings tarnished with the soot and grime of their shame. She was so sure that the answer was “No one”.  Just as she had resigned herself to a life of solitude and endless pain,… there He was. He came from far away and her past was not on display for him to critique. She tried to chase him away, but he would not go. She told him tale after lurid ugly tale, and still he would not leave.  For all of the horrible truth that she trotted out for him to view, he just professed his love for her more and more.

How could he love her after knowing the entire truth? How is it that he did not loathe her very existence? The disgusting vile creature that she believed could only bring him Trouble, and sorrow and heart ache. The answer he gave her made her weep. It wasn’t spoken in poetic prose, or with romantic flair. He stated it quite honestly as fact: He did care. He told her that for all that she was, and with all that she did, each experience, each heart break, each horrible incident made her into the beautiful person that he saw in her eyes. Ugliness had made beauty. Hate and evil had created a deeply loving soul. Where she saw a withered vine, he saw a rose bush. Where she saw a dried dirty seed, he saw a budding rose. Every time she looked into his eyes she saw what she thought was a little piece of forever. When he asked her to marry him she finally took that leap of faith one last time. She dared not fall again for a fleeting idealized whirl wind romance filled with passion. She decided that This time she would try for the Hope of securing a long term lifetime of love. He offered her a Love that would grow inside of Her heart.

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