Understand that I did not dig into Paul’s public life. I didn’t read his autobiography. I didn’t read interviews. I didn’t stalk his Facebook. I listened to his music and I talked to him in my head. That’s it. To revisit how we met, click here.
Paul was furious one day. He snapped at me about something stupid and I wasn’t having it.
“What’s up your ass?”
“My daughter is driving me crazy!”
He had grumbled about this off and on, but he’d hit a crisis point and was in a foul mood.
“How is she driving you crazy?
“We argue whenever she visits. She talks back and sasses me.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s eight.”
“She’s eight?” I frowned. “You’re arguing with an eight-year-old?”
“We fight all the time. She called me an asshole.”
He was upset and I tried to wrap my head around the idea that big, bad Avola couldn’t handle a hurt and angry little girl. But one question was too large to ignore.
“Why would you fight with a child?”
I could feel his anger and hurt radiating through the internal space we shared. “I finally get her back, after fighting so hard, and it’s nothing like I expected. She hates me. My little girl hates me.”
My heart broke for the father, the child, and the mother. I never understood how parents could use children as pawns to play out their own petty games. I decided I would help her father and her any way I could.
“Paul, you don’t know what people have told her. What her mother has told her. Nasty things. Hurtful things. ‘Your father doesn’t love you. Where is he? Wouldn’t he be here if he loved you?’”
“That was a lie!” He ranted about how unfair everything was but I interrupted him.
“Your little girl needs you. She’s hurting. She thinks you don’t love her. How could you convince her you do when you fight with her?”
The stillness of revelation filled our internal connection. “Oh my God. I’m hurting her more.”
I gave him a “good job, donkey” look but his expression was one of wonder. “All I have to do is love her?”
“Be patient. Don’t react. Respond with love. Show her what loving discipline is rather than your awful temper.”
His troubled gaze softened my heart even more. “What if I can’t do it? I mean, I have been an absent father, not by choice, but I don’t think I did as good a job as I could have.”
“You have to forgive yourself, Paul. The past can’t be changed. You start here, now. Her pain needs to be at the forefront of your mind always.”
“And what if I fail?”
“Failure can only happen when you give up. You’re human just like the rest of us.” I touched his cheek. “Remember, we’re all perfectly imperfect. I can’t stress this enough.” I kissed his temple and whispered in his ear. “Love your little girl. Be the man you want to be for her.”
I didn’t hear him bitch about his efforts, but telepathy is like that. Usually the communication occurs on a subconscious level, so you aren’t aware of the actual exchange. You know things and you’re not sure how you know the things. I could be talking to someone right now, someone who is fully cognizant of our conversation, and I wouldn’t know it because I’m busy writing down what I can remember of this interaction.
As one of my former lovers told me, “I have conversations with you in my head all the time. And when I see you, we pick up where we left off. Does that happen for you?”
My answer was yes, but we weren’t always aware of the same conversation at the same time. The telepathy is still happening, just on a deeper level.
I just knew things were going well for Paul and his daughter. He confirmed this about three months later.
“Things are great,” he said. He gave me a tender smile, something very few people have seen. “I have you to thank.”
“I’m glad you listened, you stubborn ass. I’m happy for you. I wanted this for you.”
That’s the first time he truly kissed me. Not in lust or loneliness, but in gratitude and genuine love. When you kiss telepathically, it is a different experience. Energetic bodies at various levels merge and the intention of the act, the feeling behind it, is what is sensed. This was new. Different.
And yes, Paul’s relationship with his daughter has developed into something truly beautiful that is apparent to the world at large. Every time he speaks of her, that love shines from him like a beacon. He says she is one of the most amazing people he’s ever known. I believe him.
©2020. I.O. Kirkwood. All rights reserved for text. Image may be subject to copyright.
I.O. Kirkwood 
Wow, I couldn’t imagine part two following so soon after your reply. Very intriguing to read. Thank you.
I am doing well all things considered. Learning much about myself and the people around me.
Curious about the rest of the drafts but most of all I am glad to read that the silence was not caused by things not going well with and/or around you.
I am staying tuned as always!
Stay safe as well and take care.
I just needed a kick in my can is all. Thank you, sir, There’s a few more in production and your comment couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. May you always receive the blessings the Universe sends your way. Namaste!