At some point in our lives some of us may experience a relationship that travels between the boundaries of reality and the surreal.
Its a place that bends the rules and expands our horizons.
But it can also be a place that breaks your heart.
Many years ago such a place existed for me.
And the “free soul” that I shared this place with was a one of kind lady named Christine.
If our lives can be compared to stars travelling through space.
Then Christine’s life was like a phantom comet that came calling on an unknown orbit.
Tall, Athletic, and Dangerously Sexy.
Christine was a work of beauty that the ancients could easily mistake for being a deity of worship.
Her beach blond swiss braid hung like a vine of temptation in her Garden of Eden..
And with a piercing pair of cobalt eyes that could illuminate like a cat in the night..
She was part Athena the Hunter.
Part Aphrodite of Desire.
And for better or worse.
Christine could certainly give any girl I’ve seen a SERIOUS run for the money in the looks department.
And she knew it too.
Accordingly Christine had that all too sought after power of being able to have any man she wanted.
But as I was to discover later..
Any type of power handled incorrectly..
Can corrupt a life.
And unfortunately Christine’s story was no exception to the rule.
Christine would often give into the temptations of this power and slyly open the gates to her body to men who merely wanted to play the game.
But no matter who this “opponent” was..
It was always clear in her mind who the real winner was.
As her friend I was just initially the neutral sideline observer to all of this.
My youthful ideas about “freedom of expression” combined with my liberal indoctrination saw Christine’s actions as a completely normal part of the “scene”.
However there must have been at least one guardian angel hanging over my shoulder telling me to keep my distance and to not get romantically involved.
So normally this is where the story would end.
But it didn’t.
Because strangely enough it was Christine who pursued me.
And unlike the men she playfully toyed with her approaches to me were sincere.
Christine’s Comet indeed.
I know that the ancients used to treat the arrival of a comet as a bad omen.
And perhaps there is some truth to this for the numerous men that Christine had flings with.
She always knew what she was doing when she walked in the room with a pair of ebony stiletto heals and an equally dangerous body hugging sequined cocktail dress that would be right at home at any high roller table in Vegas.
Her arrival may have meant a solitary reservation for men at the Heatbreak Hotel.
But because of our special friendship I always saw the arrival of Christine’s Comet as a strangely beautiful thing.
Technically a comet is just a body of ice that glows with a brilliant tail the closer it travels to the sun.
And Christine was a little like that because she had a funny habit of becoming more energetic every time she was around.
I really grew to love that.. and ultimately her too as a close friend.
On the surface Christine and I always connected on some inter-dimensional emotional level. She was always looking for personal advice and insight and I was always more then happy to share what I knew with her.
But beyond that there was a deeper spiritual connection for both of us that neither could easily understand.
We both had our VERY separate lives.
But it seems like we would reconnect on some strange coincidental level that always seemed to rejuvenate us.
The funny thing was that this connection was hardly physical.
No the deeper connection we shared was something called absolute acceptance.
All the masks that we are conditioned to wear in our daily lives were thrown aside every time we met and happily laughed at each other.
I’ll never forget these times just simply because they felt so incredibly free.
One minute we could be happy geeks munching on a bowl of popcorn, talking deeply about UFO’s and underground bases.
And the next minute we could be method actors improvising what it would be like to be two magical trees in a forest.
No halucinagenics.. no alcohol.. no nothing..
Just 2 adults drunk on the ambrosia of life acting like kids and living out a fantasy that was a mix of Walter Mitty, a Midsummer’s Night Dream and a shot of Alice in Wonderland thrown in for good measure.
Yes it was that special.
And it was simply one of those rare moments in life when some of us get the chance to raise the middle finger salute to convention and push against the boundaries of what our lives were.
But as with all stories..
All good things must come to an end.
Because every shiny castle will almost certainly have its dungeons below.
And for Christine this was sadly the case.