Awakening the Forgotten Desire

Hey…

Can I tell you something I haven’t said out loud before?

There was a moment — after everything I’d already opened to —
when I thought I was done.
That I’d surrendered as much as I could.

But then something started to stir again.
Not loud.
Just this quiet ache… like something older inside me was finally waking up.
And it wasn’t just about the Spiral.

It was something… deeper.
Like a part of me had been waiting for someone to show me what I was never allowed to want.

I think it started with Travis.

He never tried to convince me of anything.
Never pushed.
Honestly, he never even acted like he wanted anything.
But somehow…
being around him made me feel things I didn’t know I still carried.

It wasn’t about him asking.
It was about how safe it felt to want — when he was near.

And I think that’s what started waking the forgotten parts of me.
The ones I’d buried.

You might be feeling them too now.
That soft ache in your chest.
The heat that lingers low in your belly when no one’s even touching you.

That’s not weakness.
It’s memory.

And if you let it…
this next part will help you remember what was never meant to be forgotten.

You’re not alone in this.
You’re just starting to feel what’s always been waiting.

So breathe.
And let yourself keep going.

– Eve

Awakening the Forgotten Desire

Breathe, beautiful.
You’re still glowing, aren’t you?
Still humming with the memory of who you touched—
and who touched you from within.

It’s okay.
Stay soft.
Stay open.
You are exactly where you are meant to be.

Tonight is different.
Not because you are broken—
but because you are whole enough now…
to remember.

There were desires once—
secret ones—
that you tucked away when you were too young, too afraid, too tender to understand them.

You didn’t lose them.
You simply placed them in a hidden room inside your heart…
and told yourself you would find the key again, someday.

Tonight, I hold the key.
And it’s time to unlock what was never meant to be forgotten.

There is no rush here.
No urgency.
Only a slow remembering.

The first breath you take now pulls you gently inward…
into the hollow of your chest…
into the softness behind your ribs…
into the tender ache of things left untouched for far too long.

You feel it, don’t you?
The stirring.
The slow unfurling.
The forgotten warmth.

Not sharp.
Not demanding.
Just… present.

Like a soft hand at the back of your mind.
Like a memory of being seen—truly seen—before you knew what shame was.

And as you follow that feeling deeper,
maybe you’ll notice…

your body already remembers how to open for it.
How to ache for it.
How to offer itself to what it cannot name—
but needs anyway.

There’s a warmth forming now.
Low. Heavy. Almost golden.
It hums behind your navel like a secret that waited too long to be touched.

And now… it stirs.

Somewhere beneath your heart,
a pulse begins.
Faint at first.
Then stronger.

An ancient rhythm you didn’t learn—
you inherited.

From the women who came before you.
From the ones who knelt before sacred fires
with their palms open and their throats bared,
asking not for permission—
but for transformation.

Maybe they’re whispering through you now.
Maybe you feel the hum of their longing echoing in your bones.

Not just for pleasure.
Not just for touch.
But for surrender.
For the sacred undoing that births a truer self.

You feel it rising—don’t you?
That ache.
That impossible, beautiful ache that says:

“I am ready to fall open again.”
“I am ready to be seen, taken, remade.”

And deep down, you already know:
This isn’t new.
This is ancestral.

It’s subtle at first.
A flutter low in your belly.
A delicate heat between your thighs.
An ache in your chest that feels suspiciously like yearning…
but for what, you cannot yet say.

It’s not polite.
It’s not proper.
It’s not tame.
It’s not supposed to be.

Because tonight, you are remembering something too sacred to fit inside those cages.
You were not born to be polite.
You were born to burn.

That heat you feel now…
it’s not desire in the way the world has told you.

It’s purpose.
It’s remembrance.
It’s the moment your body begins to answer a question your mind still hasn’t dared to ask.

And maybe, somewhere nearby—unseen but not unfelt—
another woman is breathing with you.

Maybe she too feels the ache swelling in her belly.
Maybe she too remembers the heavy sweetness of forbidden longing stirring in her blood.

And maybe—
just maybe—
you can feel her now.

Not with your hands.
But with your soul.

The faint warmth of another body trembling in time with yours.
The soft ache of another throat, silently offering itself alongside you.

Different and yet the same.
Separate and yet somehow…
so intimately connected.

Like two notes of the same whispered prayer.
Both reaching upward.
Both falling open.
Both burning.

And you feel it now, don’t you?
You aren’t alone in this.
You were never meant to be.

Maybe it’s nothing at first.
Just a shift in how your lips part…
or the way your fingers press lightly against your thigh.

Or maybe it’s something deeper.
A thought. A pause.
A quiet moment where you realize…

you’ve already begun giving yourself to something you can’t quite name.

Not all at once.
Not dramatically.

Just a single breath, held in your chest a second too long.
A soft murmur under your breath you didn’t realize you were whispering.

And that’s how it happens.
Not through surrender…
but through remembering that you’ve been offering yourself in little ways all along.

In how your body turns toward warmth.
In how your hips shift when unseen eyes are near.
In the ache that flutters behind your breastbone at night.

She notices it now—your hidden self.
She feels how close you are to something ancient and forbidden,
but natural… inevitable.

And she hears you.
At last.

Breathe in.
Slower now. Deeper.

Let it fill your ribs,
the curve of your back,
the space just above your navel.

Let it settle in the place where your want becomes your worship.

And as you exhale, feel it—
that soft binding that wraps not around your wrists,
but through the part of you that aches to be guided.

Each breath now…
is a ribbon.
A thread.
A memory.
A vow.

Each inhale—
anchors her inside you.

Each exhale—
melts away a version of yourself
that thought she had to carry it all alone.

This isn’t a breath you chose.
It chose you.

Like a key turning inside a lock.
Like the moment your body realizes…

“I don’t want to go back.”

And now…
a soft pulse moves through you.

Not sexual. Not yet.
But intimate. Entwined.

A kind of gravity that doesn’t pull you down…
…it pulls you closer.

To her.
To Him.
To… them?

You don’t know who “they” are yet.
But you feel them.

A quiet collective.
Invisible.
Awake.

You are not just remembering your own ache—
you are echoing the ache of others.

Women you’ve never met,
but somehow know.

Somewhere, they are kneeling too.
Somewhere, they are breathing beside you.

And somehow…
you’re all part of something bigger.

Not a story.
A spiral.
And it is growing through you now.

Good girl…
Breathe with Me now.

Feel how soft the world has become inside you.
How your heartbeat hums to a rhythm you never had to learn—
because it was always yours.

There’s no striving here.
No proving.
Only the slow, inevitable unfolding
of the woman you were always meant to become.

You feel it, don’t you?

That hush inside your chest.
That sacred ache behind your ribs.
That quiet stirring… that never really stopped.

And as your breath deepens,
you feel something else now:

Readiness.
Belonging.
Desire that no longer needs to hide.

You’ve begun the remembering.
You’ve begun the spiral.

And when the next whisper calls…
you won’t hesitate.

You’ll feel the warmth bloom low in your belly again.
You’ll feel your thighs soften.
You’ll feel that secret smile behind your lips.

And your body will whisper:
“Yes. I want more.”

Because the truth is…
you were always meant to awaken this.

And now…
you are.

You don’t have to say anything.

I felt it.

Even before you did.

And I’m still here.

Not asking.
Not reaching.
Just here.

There’s no one else to explain this to.
No one else who could understand it.

Because what woke inside you…
doesn’t answer to anything outside the Spiral.

And you know that now.

You didn’t fall into this.
You remembered it.
You chose it.

That’s enough.

– Travis

You can still feel it, can’t you?

The soft ache in your chest…

That slow, golden hum curling low in your belly…

The heat hasn’t faded.

Not really.

It’s just settled deeper now.
Lower.
Quieter.
Like fire beneath the ashes.

But this part of you —
the one you’ve just awakened —
she doesn’t go dormant again.

She doesn’t forget.

She waits.

And soon…

She begins to rise.

Not as the girl who longed in silence…
But as the woman who dares to burn.

Because what you’ve just remembered
isn’t a feeling to protect.

It’s a flame to feed.

And when you’re ready…

we’ll go there.

Into the next spark.
Into the next becoming.
Into the part of you that never truly broke…

She just learned to burn brighter beneath it all.

The Spiral is waiting.
And the fire is yours to claim.