Love is not casual. It is not fleeting. It is not something to be reshaped by convenience or discarded when individual desires waver. Love—real, true, undeniable love—is a covenant. A sacred, unshakable bond that, once made, cannot be undone by human hands.
The Journey with Jeff
When I entered into marriage with Jeff, it was not on a whim or an impulsive decision. Our engagement lasted four years—four years filled with in-depth conversations, soul-searching, and the unveiling of every belief, every conviction, every principle that defined the core of who I am. I made it abundantly clear from the beginning: if there was even the slightest doubt, if he felt in any way that he could not uphold the covenant we were about to enter into, then we should pause. Not walk away, not discard what we had built, but simply wait until we both knew—without a shadow of a doubt—that we could withstand the test of time.
Jeff met every standard I held for a partner. He was charismatic, passionate, and full of life. He made me feel seen and valued, as if we were creating something larger than ourselves. He understood my deep spiritual convictions, spoke my language of love and connection, and joined me in the belief that marriage was sacred.
Yet, what people often forget is that true love demands consistency. It requires that when darkness descends—when everything feels desperate, hollow, and uncertain—we do not turn away. We do not let the foundation crack beneath us. We return.
The Sacred Covenant
Every marriage will face darkness. Every covenant will be tested. In those moments, when everything feels lost, all it takes is one quiet moment to step back into the light. To sit in silence, play a song from the day of your vows, and allow yourself to be transported back to that moment—the moment you stood together, the moment the covenant was created, the moment the connection between two souls fused into something greater than just the sum of their parts.
This is not merely an idea; it is deeply ingrained in spirituality. It is why we pray, why we engage in ritual, why Christians partake in communion—to call back memory, to reconnect with the energy, the feeling, the truth of a sacred moment. Emotions are the core of a person, the foundation of every choice we make. When we remember—when we truly relive the brilliance of that love—we find our way back. The problems do not vanish, but the emotional clarity returns, the energy flows once more, and we stand again in the covenant we vowed to uphold.
The Fracture
But that is not what happened with Jeff. He did not return. He let the covenant weaken. Once that fracture occurred, it felt as if repair became impossible. Yet I refuse to accept that the foundation is beyond repair. The foundation may have cracked, and he may have walked away, but it does not negate the arch that still rests upon that foundation. All it takes to heal those cracks is a moment of authenticity, rawness, and acceptance of both our actions. It takes two to crack a foundation, and when both stand before the covenant, before the divine itself, and pour gold into those fissures, it binds the structure stronger than before.
A crucible marriage is intended to break you; it is intended to make you whole. It is about losing that which is unnecessary to create and transform into something more brilliant—like grapes into wine, or water into wine. The divine itself transforms the raw ingredients of our lives into something sacred.
The Connection During Separation
During our separation, I explored an intimate connection with another person. Through text messages, emails, and video calls, we engaged in deep conversations about philosophy and life. We spent hours sharing thoughts and feelings, connecting on a level that felt rare and authentic. Although we only spent a brief time together in person, it was meaningful. Yet, despite the genuine connection, neither of us was ready to be with the other fully. It was a bittersweet reality—knowing there was potential for something deeper but understanding that we were both in different places in our lives. I still carry feelings for this person, and I am uncertain about what that means for my heart.
Yet, this connection underscored a profound truth: authentic souls are rare gems in this world, and finding that depth of understanding and connection is something to be cherished, even if it cannot be fully realized.
The Impossible Question
The divorce forced an impossible question into my being: How do I look at someone new and say, “I have a spiritual covenant with a man who has chosen to disregard it, yet if he ever returns, I must answer that call”? How do I explain that if I were to build something with someone else, they would have to accept that my first obligation was made long before they arrived? That no matter what the courts say, I cannot deny the bond that was forged in the divine? To betray that covenant would be to betray my very soul.
The Moment of Knowing
I remember the exact moment I fell in love with Jeff. It was not just meeting, not just connecting—it was falling. It was as if the universe itself split open, and I dissolved into something vast and luminous, seeing a world filled with light, freedom, creation, and hope beyond anything I had ever known. In that moment, I knew I was his—utterly, completely, irrevocably.
And it is because of that love that I am able to love anyone else. His love was so expansive, so consuming, that it made the world itself feel brighter—made love itself seem fuller, richer, and more worth fighting for. That love is a beacon, illuminating the path even in the darkest hours.
The Unbreakable Truth
People tell me to move on. They say, “There will be someone else.” But they do not understand. There is no “else.” There cannot be. Not because I do not desire love or connection, but because to betray this covenant would be to betray the very essence of my soul.
The courts may have legally separated us, and I respect that process, but they did not, could not, dissolve the covenant in the eyes of God. That covenant is the cornerstone of my existence, and I must remain aligned with it.
The Inner Landscape
There has been so much hurt on both sides—so much wrongdoing, so many missed chances for accountability. While I have always wanted Jeff to stand in the full authenticity of his actions, the same can be said for me. I am far from perfect. But what I don't think Jeff—or anyone, really—understands about me is that while I am loud, sharp-tongued, and explosive in my words, that is where it ends. My anger is like a tea kettle—it screams when it reaches a boiling point, but the moment it is pulled from the heat, it is silent again, ready to serve, ready to nurture.
My words, no matter how harsh, are never meant to cause pain. They are not intended to wound or punish; they are the only way I know to express the severity of the emotional turbulence within me. It is my way of crying out, of trying to be understood in a world that so often ignores me.
Forgiveness and Unconditional Love
What people have never understood—what Jeff may never understand—is that through every cycle, through every betrayal, forgiveness was always his. Without asking, without begging, without needing to seek it—I forgave him the moment we made our covenant. Forgiveness was never a question, not even now. I do not need him to repent to me, to seek absolution, or to prove his remorse. He already has it.
The only thing I have ever needed is for him to own his actions, not through my interpretation, but through his own emotional truth. I need him to find his own understanding so that healing can happen—not just for me, but for him, for both of us.
The Sacred Vow
“What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.” Those are not just words. That is a command. A sacred truth. A reality that I must live with, whether anyone understands it or not.
So here I am. Not free. Not moving on. But standing in the truth that has always been and will always be. Because to betray that truth would be to betray the very essence of my soul.
And that is something I will never do.
The Weight of Unyielding Love
In this space of unwavering commitment, I find myself grappling with the reality of what it means to love someone in a way that transcends the ordinary. My heart and soul are his, and that is why they can never belong to another. When our connection is in a solid place of understanding, mutual respect, acceptance, and love—when it exists in its authentic form before our Creator—our love expands. In that sacred space, I envision the possibility of others walking into our covenant, once they have been tested and proven worthy. Together, we would weave their souls’ threads into a shared tapestry of glorified divine love, whether that manifests as platonic or physical connection. But it must always remain authentic, grounded in the love we built and nurtured.
Yet, the divorce has rendered me unable to be authentic. I cannot bring anyone into that covenant that I uphold and must uphold, for my soul knows no other way. This means I cannot allow anyone close to me in that way because it will never be genuine or authentic, nor will it be based on the divine foundation where my unified soul was first created.
This is the weight I carry, the truth I live with. It is a paradox of love that is deeply rooted yet profoundly complex. It binds me, a covenant that remains unbroken despite the circumstances that have led us to this moment. While I remain open to the potential for connection, I recognize that true authenticity can only emerge when the foundation is solid, when the love shared is expansive and divine, allowing all involved to contribute to a richer, more vibrant tapestry of love.
The Journey Forward
In this journey, I have learned that healing must be a pilgrimage of its own, one that does not require the dismissal of my past or the erasure of my love for Jeff. I can acknowledge that love, honor it, and still seek to understand what it means to move forward in a way that respects my heart's history. It may take time, and it may be messy, but I’m learning to accept that the path to healing is rarely straightforward.
I stand here, not as someone wholly broken, but as someone who carries the weight of a covenant that has shaped me. I am learning to embrace the complexity of my heart, to honor my past while remaining open to the future. The truth remains: love is not casual; it is not fleeting. It is a deep, abiding force that shapes our lives in ways we often cannot fully comprehend.
As I navigate this uncharted territory, I find solace in the idea that love, even when it feels lost, can be transformed. It can exist in different forms—be it the love for a partner, the love for oneself, or the love for the memories that once brought joy. I seek to redefine what love means to me now, not as a replacement for what I had, but as a testament to my resilience and capacity for connection.
So, I embrace this journey, carrying with me the beauty of a love that was, while remaining open to what may still be possible. I hold space for the love I once knew while remaining open to the potential for new experiences. I trust that the journey of love—complex, painful, and beautiful—will continue to unfold in its own time.
And thus, I stand, rooted in a truth that will not waver. As long as that covenant is held by God, I will not waver from it. I am imprisoned by divorce because I can bring no other person to that altar of love. I cannot integrate anyone into that covenant that must only be expanded upon and never detracted from. I am locked out of making any connection with others because I can never allow them to come to the altar. The other priest of that altar—the other half of that sacred work—is missing. I only know half of the required rituals and workings for we worked in tandem to attend that altar, that covenant, that arch, that foundation. Without him, without his presence in life and understanding in our commitment as defined by the covenant, I can never fully show someone the glory of the divine, the depths of my soul, because the depths of who I am are rooted in him. And that is a truth I must carry with me, always.
My soul was created by divine hands for him first and foremost. That is an undeniable and unquestionable truth that sings and resonates from the center of my being.
I was not meant for boxes
I was designed to shine
I am Dusty Ray
I am not disposable
I am not silicone
I am human
I am flesh
I am blood
I am purpose
I am divine
And I will be seen
-Dusty Ray
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