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A Thousand Forevers: A True Love Story
A Thousand Forevers: A True Love Story
A Thousand Forevers: A True Love Story
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A Thousand Forevers: A True Love Story

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This is a true story about a secret love, forbidden by society, which formed in childhood but was born from lifetimes of being together. It is told through letters in a loving, intimate, and soul-searching way. Their story is unique yet worldly, showing they overcame all odds in finding each other again.

The writer seeks the highest level of truth for herself while learning valuable lessons in life through her struggles with guilt and shame to ultimately learning the meaning of unconditional love. This is genuine and written from the heart.

Dearest R,

The illusions of time and space cannot, will not keep us apart. I long for the moment our purpose, our constancy, and our commitment will bind us physically together. Until then, I rejoice in our unbounded love, our eros, our agape. I thank God we were blessed with each other to share eternity.

Love forever,
G

This love had smoldered like hot coals and could no longer be denied. It was now a full-blown fire, consuming and burning everything in its pathmy reality, my ego, and a twenty-seven-year marriagewith one look, one embrace. This vessel, my soul, was now emptied of the years of servitude to my inauthentic self, and I was spent with exhaustion. R

LanguageEnglish
PublisherBalboa Press
Release dateMar 18, 2014
ISBN9781452593982
A Thousand Forevers: A True Love Story
Author

R. Bayuk

Randy Bayuk's first book is a memoir of epic proportions, digging deep on a personal level, covering everything from broken marriage vows, betrayal, and desire to unconditional love and forgiveness, all told through letters. It is brutally honest and heartfelt.

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    A Thousand Forevers - R. Bayuk

    Copyright © 2014 Randy Bayuk.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    Balboa Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

    Balboa Press

    A Division of Hay House

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.balboapress.com

    1 (877) 407-4847

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2014904340

    ISBN: 978-1-4525-9397-5 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4525-9398-2 (e)

    Balboa Press rev. date: 3/14/2014

    Contents

    The Beginning—The Awakening to the Intricate Dance of Love

    Setting the Stage for Our Rediscovery

    Our Letters

    Conclusion

    Epilogue

    To the loves of my life, G, Casey, Kristin, Callie, Kelly, Evy, Henry, Christy, Phil, and Erin. Thank you for all the lessons you have taught me and the unconditional love you have given me.

    Dearest R:

    There have been times in my life when I experienced the illusion of flight; but it was only when you came back to me and said yes that my heart found its true wings. Now you are forever with me, and with that constant thought, I truly soar.

    G

    R’s journal entry:

    May 23, 2008

    My loving, wonderful husband passed away after he crashed his motorcycle. We are in shock.

    Excerpt from G’s letter:

    You are my life! Not time, nor space, nor mortal thought can ever separate us, even for a moment, for in my mind and in my heart, you remain forever in my arms.

    I love you,

    G

    R

    The illusions of time and space cannot, will not, keep us apart. I long for the moment our purpose, our constancy, our commitment will bind us physically together. Until then, I rejoice in our unbounded love, our eros, our agape. I thank God we were blessed with each other to share eternity.

    Love forever,

    G

    There has always been a voice inside me that said, You can’t do it! Writing a book seemed so daunting, but after four years, that voice has been silenced—for a moment at least. After the death of my husband, G, I found letters we had written to each other during the two-year separation before we were married. After rereading them, I knew that these letters were not just for me but for everyone who has ever been in love or who has searched for love.

    These letters show that true love can withstand the test of time and space, that true love will overshadow and endure far beyond what society thinks is proper or acceptable. I am sharing this story for the impossibilities that come up in your life and for all the limitations you face. This kind of love will overthrow the skeptics and self-righteous judges of what is right. This was and is our kind of love.

    The Beginning—The Awakening to the Intricate Dance of Love

    W e were living in California when my dad received word of his father’s passing. After inheriting some money, my dad decided to move closer to family. Because of the distance, my brother and I never had the chance to meet many relatives. So my dad and mom packed us up, and we drove to our new home in Florida, with a planned stop in Georgia to stay with our aunt and uncle and cousin. I was so excited to meet them. As we pulled up to the house, I could see a face staring out of the window at me. This was the first time I laid eyes upon my beloved. I was eight years old, innocent and pure, and with one glance, I became captive of his gentle, loving eyes. Love was instantaneous. His eyes spoke volumes—things a nine-year-old and an eight-year-old couldn’t yet verbalize or really unders tand.

    Up until that time, my life was carefree and typical of one so young. But my life became complicated the day our eyes met. We were innocents caught in a situation we didn’t quite understand. He was my first cousin, my mother’s brother’s son. It seemed as if life had played a cruel joke on us. We were related by blood, but there was a recognition of each other from eons of lifetimes together. Even though it was the first day we met, we had always known each other. He knew more than I the extent of this connection.

    The eight-year-old in me accepted and acknowledged this love. It was not until forty years later that we allowed our hearts to have their way and truly understand the connection of a lifetime that has lasted an eternity and will last for a thousand forevers.

    Here is G’s version of our first meeting and our reconnection thirty years later.

    Dear R,

    Eyes wide, face pressed against the window, he watched, he wondered. Filled with seasoned impatience (carried across oceans of time), nine years old, going on a hundred, he waited for the moment that would chart his course for this lifetime.

    Eternity paused as the car pulled in the driveway and the four passengers moved through the front door and into his heart.

    Excited, awestruck, the nine-year-old met: his uncle, the jovial giant who made everybody laugh; his aunt, the mere mention of whose name brought joy to the boy’s father; his boy cousin, the man-child who would spend summers and holidays as the boy’s mentor of mirth and mischief.

    And then the hundred-year-old, now going on a millennium, looked into the eyes of the girl: his cousin, his sister, his mother, his wife, his friend, lover, heart, and soul—his destiny.

    The fire ignited, the fire that understood the impatience, for they had traveled the oceans of time together.

    Did she feel it too? Did she know? How could she not? After all, they were two halves of the same circle.

    For both, the awareness, the understanding grew, incubating in the winters of separation, blooming in the summers together.

    In their early teens, they dared to voice the words their eyes had spoken from the beginning.

    Sleepless nights were spent talking of dreams and impossibilities, love that overflowed from their hearts and gave meaning to the existence of their souls. Holding each other, they felt the fullness of life made whole only by each other’s touch. They kissed, melted into oneness, and, gazing into each other’s eyes, they constructed their own universe, free of the constraints and illusions of this one.

    Their late teens suffered the impositions of society’s reality and expectations. The impatience found a time to rest, and the fire returned to smoldering embers, waiting for the time of renewal.

    The renewal came thirty years later.

    Eternity paused as the car pulled in the driveway. The rest of the world disappeared as she walked toward him.

    As she reached to hold him, her eyes spoke first:

    I’m here. For you. I’m yours.

    I always have been

    I always will be.

    Her voice said, I never want to let you go.

    He said, And I don’t want you to.

    United with her in mind, heart, body, and soul, he finally understood. She never had let go, and never would.

    Love always,

    G

    Through the years, when we were together for summers and holidays, our love became more real, more tangible, but also more confusing. We would play hide-and-seek with our feelings and emotions. We would sneak away to have time to be together, with no one ever knowing how we felt about each other. We would stay up all night, talking and laughing and holding each other.

    When I was nineteen and he was twenty, the universe stepped in, and our fate was sealed. My mother was driving over to stay with G’s family and, for some reason, didn’t tell me she was going. When she arrived, G

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