Once I was awake enough to be aware, I missed Marco something terrible. That was about the time of night I had been used to waking up and rolling over to touch his warm body.   I hugged a pillow against my chest, but it just wasn’t the same.   My grip on the pillow grew tighter and tighter.   I yearned to be close to him again.   My heart ached in a way I didn’t think was possible for someone I wasn’t in love with.   I flopped to my back and looked at the phone beside the bed.   The longer I lay there, the more tempted I was to call.   But it was the full moon, he might not even be there, and tomorrow he would be gone.  

            I wanted Marco back, even if it was only for a night.   But I couldn’t call.   What would it say about me if I called then? We had mutually agreed to get on with our lives.   No matter how many times I reminded myself of this, I still stared at the phone by the bed.  

            Finally I got up and took Mathias’ journal down from the shelf.  

            “If I ever needed words of wisdom old man, it’s now,” I said as I opened the cover.  

            I turned the page and was once again confronted with an image of one of the most hauntingly beautiful men I’d ever seen.   Beautiful may not be a very masculine way to describe a man, but it was the closest I could come to doing Mathias Alexander justice.   He had been known as The Seducer.   He was one of the most powerful wizards to have ever lived, and he was my great, great grandfather.   His hair blazed like a captive flame in the faint moonlight streaming through the balcony door.   The picture seemed alive in some way.   The kindness in his eyes tugged at my heart and put a lump in my throat.   I needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to tell me that everything would be alright.   When I finally turned to the next page I found these words:

            I cannot offer you my shoulder, but please believe that everything will be alright.  

                That was all it took.   My emotions were already shook up and I started to cry.   Before I could find a tissue more of his words began to appear as if being written by an invisible hand.  

                Do not cry, child.   It would be wrong of me to tell you the future.   I do not believe in interfering with fate.   But if you will not take the word of a wizard with the gift of sight, then who will you believe?

            I understand what you are feeling, because I have seen it.   I have also seen your frustration at hearing me say that, but it is true.   However, you are thinking, “Why did he not warn me about this?” And I say to you, I did.  

            Do not try to analyze things too much.   As someone has recently told you, “do not complicate things that need not be complicated.” Yes, I know where you were this past week.   Do not blush, I am a very old wizard, and there is little that I have not been exposed to.  

            Never be embarrassed to turn to me.   As I have said before, I do not have all the answers.   I am merely offering advice that may be of some comfort to you.   You are thinking that you haven’t really accomplished anything by reading this journal again, but you have.  

            You are already less anxious than you were when your fingers first touched these pages.   The future will unfold before you like a wild rose blooming in the spring.   They do not need your care, or your time, and whether you notice them or not, they still grow.  

                        “What the hell does that mean?” I asked out loud.  

            As much as him not giving a straight answer bothered me, Mathias was right.   I did feel much better than when I’d first picked up the journal.   I wondered how I would ever manage to get to sleep and I saw one last response:

            Close your eyes.

                “Smartass,” I mumbled as I put the book back on the shelf.  

                        Mathias Alexander’s enchanted journal had come to me through an unlikely source.   Marco had passed it along during one of my visits to his club.   He’d found it the year before in an old bookstore in London.   Since the journal was enchanted, Mathias had used it to instruct Marco to deliver the book to me.   Marco was able to read the journal like a diary, telling him Mathias’ day to day life, but the teachings that my wizard ancestor had longed to pass down were only seen by me.   Mathias had made sure of that.

            I decided that the only way I would ever still my mind enough to rest was to meditate.   I lay flat of my back, adjusted the pillow as best I could and began to breathe deeply and evenly.   Once my heart began to beat more slowly, I started the visualization exercise Mathias had taught me.  

            A staircase stood before me.   I saw along this staircase many colors that stretched upward and wrapped around the steps.   The staircase that I visualized looked very much like the stone steps leading down to Alfred’s lab, and the dungeon.   As I approached the first step I looked down, and through my mind’s eye saw my right foot with the dragonfly tattoo on the big toe.   This was my way of visualizing me without detaching myself from the surroundings.

            The lower portion of the staircase was surrounded in a beautiful, almost jewel like red.   I stepped into this red and let it embrace me.   I breathed in the color and let my anger and frustration flow out of me.   It took several deep breaths before I felt calm enough to continue.

            The red faded into a beautiful orange that I passed through next, followed by a magnificent sunshine yellow that I stopped to breathe in as well.   I let the bright and cheerful color fill my heart and breathed out my anxiety.   The yellow became a green that spilled over into a blue and from there a glorious purple.   By the time I had reached the purple I felt as if I were floating instead of ascending a staircase.   The purple gave way to a blinding white, beyond which there was a garden.   This was my safe place, the place in my mind that I went in order to practice my skills, to release my worries, and if possible, heal my heart.

            The garden was awe inspiringly lush and vibrant.   The plants never stopped growing.   Flowers bloomed before my eyes as if in fast motion, and vines continued to spread while I walked across them.   The colors were the most vivid I’d ever seen but in particular I remembered the roses.   Here I always took the time to stop and smell them in all their glory.   Surrounded by a tangle of beautiful pink roses and vines was a door.   This door was silver and ornate as the door to my dungeon, but it was always locked.   In order to gain entrance to this particular door, I had to let go of the last of my worries, the ones that no amount of deep breathing could take away.  

            I looked down and beside the door there was a box.   This box was also covered in wonderful carvings and had the look of silver.   I sat in front of the box and opened the lid.   Inside I saw what looked like a reflection of a clear night sky.   There were stars and comets, planets and moons.   It looked as if the entire universe had been fitted to the inside of that box.   If it could hold the universe, it could hold my problems.   I visualized an object to represent each of the things that troubled me and placed them in the box.   The first thing that appeared was a picture, almost like a snapshot of Marco in his red pajamas, and I put it in the box.   The next was a picture of Alfred looking very upset.  

            Next was my father, then Elijah, and Kat.   This went on for a while with everything from my bathroom scale to a paintbrush appearing before me.   Miraculously the small box held them all including the next object, Mathias’ journal.   I was tired of worrying about what he had meant when he warned me to be careful who I loved.   I wanted to be free to love whomever I chose without worrying about what meaning it would have.   Even as I thought this I knew that I could try as much as I wanted, but I could never change what I felt, nor could I dictate to myself what was appropriate for me to feel.   In spite of all of that, the last object I placed into the box was a picture of a heart.   Not the real kind, but a valentine version, fitted together like a puzzle.   The pieces still held, but they had obviously been separate at one time.

            When everything that was on my mind had at last been placed inside the box, I closed the lid.   I reopened the box and saw only the reflection of a beautiful clear night.   My problems were gone, at least for now.   I looked back up to the door and a key appeared in the lock.   As I opened the door and stepped inside, I always put the key on a small table near the door.   But it never stayed there.   In this room I had created a place for myself to cope with whatever might come my way.   The room always contained whatever I needed to be there.   One thing that was always there was a comfortable couch just to the left of the door.   There was also a fountain that gently splashed near the end of the couch and tall bamboo plants in every corner.  

            I approached the small table near the sofa.   This table had many layers and among the layers were many bottles.   I selected the one labeled, “sweet dreams.” But before I could open the bottle I heard Mathias’ voice in my mind.  

            “There is a bottle on the shelf below that may be of more use to you,” he said.  

            I picked up a small bottle shaped like a tear drop and read the label.  

            The Desires of Your Heart

            I held the bottle for a moment and wondered if I really wanted to know the desires of my heart.   What would knowing such a thing accomplish except to confuse me further? I was afraid that if I knew the desires of my heart it might shape my reality in a way that would not have previously been.   To put it bluntly, I was afraid it might be screwing with fate.   I believe things happen for a reason, and there is no such thing as coincidence.   Therefore, fate should be left alone.  

                        "But is it not fate that I would bring this to your attention now?” Mathias’ voice floated through my head again.  

                        He was the only one capable of visiting me when I went to that place in my mind.   I think it was because he showed me how to get there.   He was very specific in his instructions that I should never bring anyone with me to that room.   He said that having someone else’s consciousness there might warp me in some way.   Of course he said it much more eloquently than I, but that’s the gist of it.   It seemed I was able to somehow channel his thoughts when I was there.   The way he had explained this to me in his journal was that I knew what he would say because he was a part of me.  

                        So, I wasn’t actually channeling Mathias’ spirit, but more like his consciousness still existed somewhere deep within my mind.   It would seem then some wizards may never truly die.   I had wondered before if all wizards had the power to hold the consciousness of their ancestors within their mind, but decided I didn’t really want to know.   If I was the only one, I didn’t need another reason to make me feel like a weirdo.  

            No wonder Mathias had waited for me so long; he needed someone to house his ability, as well as his essence.   Out loud I said, “Are you showing me this so you can live vicariously through my sex life?”

            “My dear, I have experienced enough in my own time to put you to shame.   If ever I should decide to share my experiences with you, the blush would take days to fade away.”

            His sarcastic response had been instant.   And in spite of its bitter undertone, I knew it was meant in jest.  

            “Then why did you show me this?”

            “I just thought it might help you to sleep.”

            “I know there’s more you’re not telling me, but I’ve learned better than to expect a straight answer from you.”

            “You came here looking for sweet dreams.   What could be more pleasant than to dream of the desires of your heart?”

            “And what could be more painful than to wake up and realize it was all just a dream? No thank you, Mathias.   I just want a good night’s sleep.”

            “My dear, you are wise beyond your years.”

Click the image below to purchase Object of My Affection.

Book I is called Red and is available now at www.newconceptspublishing.com/red.htm