I know I’m approaching the end of my life now – the reality of that can’t be avoided – but I feel like I’ve never been happier, and there’s absolutely nothing I regret.
Well, sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I’d found Paul earlier, if we’d had more time to explore our talents together, as younger people. But it’s a ‘glass half full’ situation. At least I found him at all (well, he found me!) and at least I’ve had all these many happy years with him now – where we’ve worked so closely together and achieved so much!
I often reflect on the four loves of my life. I had kept my secret from my first love. I had told it to my second love and been rejected. My third love had not known of my existence. Then at last, with my fourth and final love, I could share my secret.
Now everything has fallen into place. I’m reunited with my own family, and Paul and I even have two children of our own – delightful twin daughters. Oh yes, they came very late for me, but thank goodness I still had a few eggs left, so that I just had time to fall pregnant. Maybe it was even my last ever fertile egg, for I never had a period again afterwards. I’m so happy for it, though. To think those sweet girls almost might never have been.
And they have our talent, both of them. We haven’t told anyone yet, and we haven’t discussed it with them – but we’re both sure of it. A rather special future lies in store for the both of them; a good one, I hope, now that things have turned out as they have.
I still write as much as I can, recording everything. And telling my own story, again for posterity.
We no longer fear government agents and kidnappings. Circumstances have changed, and no-one would dare. I could never have imagined I would find myself enjoying such a happy and secure old age! Must I think of myself as old? I suppose I must, though my mind feels as young and as nimble as ever.
I have no choice but to wait, to find out the outcome of that final dilemma – to know whether I might continue to survive in some form, once my mortal body has failed.
I am so used to wandering far and wide, and at the speed of thought, that it’s difficult to imagine that I’ll at some point no longer be able to. I can see myself existing beyond death. Surely more than most people, I understand the nature of the soul. And yet somehow I doubt such a future will fall to me. My brain will die eventually like everyone else’s, and in all probability my awareness, my inner self will die with it.
And why live if I could never hold my dear daughters in my arms, never pull my beloved husband to me again? He and I are like one being now. Existence without him would be torment.
I still sometimes wonder if I am just mad, and that all that has happened – which is, it must be admitted, sometimes rather hard to believe – is just a delusion. Maybe Paul is part of my delusion. Maybe I haven’t been to other planets, maybe there is only life on Earth after all.
But no, I must have faith in my own sanity. I must believe that my life experience has been real.
When the time comes, I sometimes think to myself, I will lie down in a quiet place, and go with my mind to visit that remote place in Australia, where I first met Paul in such dreadful circumstances, and where we first kissed. And where I experienced the magic moment that so changed my life, and so many other lives, also.
I have been there often. I have thought of it often.
Our wonderful, magic moment.