This is a story about crossroads, and the immense role time plays in relationships. They grow, they evolve, or they end. In this piece, the relationship is ending and the narrator is powerless. There is beauty and pain in letting go and moving on. That’s what I was trying to capture in this story. Can you relate?
Since you left, I am half of myself. Still intoxicated by the lingering idea of you. These memories keep me up at night. Hours fuse together. Feelings are a Bonnie and Clyde battle. So caught up in what used to be, I can’t let go.
I’m fighting a good fight. My soul longed to be loved in the only way you loved me. You came into my life, and I was yours.
There are never tears as I struggle to remember. Etched into my mind, love-induced conversations, that passionate fire in your eyes…A blue I never experienced before. The kind of blue you dream about. Not one of the 64 crayons in my box could ever replicate.
Colors became feelings. Smells, nostalgic memories. Your smell – a heat of sandalwood, sweat, the faint smell of smoke on your cheeks, I offered one kiss.
How it felt when you held me… The way your hands are so strong – worked and weathered –so gentle –they traced intricate words you wouldn’t speak onto my naked skin. The goose bumps always gave me away, but I knew everything you didn’t want me to.
Juxtaposition became an ode to our relationship.
Tender/Fighter. Whole/Broken. Wise/Naïve. Lover/Protector. Your person/My person. Exhilarating/Devastating. Healer/Gangrenous Wounds.
Finally, vulnerable, I fell hard. I couldn’t hide what I was feeling. Your knowing eyes couldn’t hide the connection. Our pasts intertwined.
Trusting so much in my feelings for you. The marrow of my bones run cold every time you open a door, turn a corner, glance across the room. Are you really here?
Days pass, and precious memories become wisps in my mind. We knew each other in past lives. Intricately, indescribably bound we “got to know each other,” so much that it hurt. I knew you, you knew me, love never gave way to lust.
Our memories are more difficult to retain, easier to release, most painful to watch dissipate…Out of my control. A terrible duality of resigning to the inevitable and holding on to sacred hope.
I’m approaching the summit. I fight the ascent without grace. My body dragging as the universe silently, knowingly, fights back. I am powerless. Every minute, second, day, I fight against the inevitable. Once I reach the peak, the seriousness of the descent will take over. You will be gone and I will descend on my own.
With you, I feared nothing. I consented to happiness. Hopelessly accepted.
We. The center of the universe. No one could touch us.
All or nothing. We were all. We were nothing.
I would jump off this mountain for a second chance to grow back in love with you. Let’s stoke the fire, whisper the sun into a star dying too soon.