She told me that she loved me and I knew that she felt just as much in love as I did.
When we kissed, our lips, moved together and touched so
softly, like a butterfly closing its velvet wings, right when
they whisper gently together.
To my lament, I noticed one day that when we kissed, her
lips were colder than mine were.
This continued from that day on.
I thought that the heat of my lips meant that I was
passionate for her, but what it actually meant was that I
loved her in an all-embracing way, and she loved me in a less
I then realized that two people could love one another in different ways and the more joyful one would never recognize the rejection.
Never underestimate the power of denial.
Did she ever love me? Now I wonder if I can trust what she said to me. I would like to
think that I could because she said such warm, safe, and happy things.
I did not cling to her in fear. I lived and existed to cherish her. I wanted to share with
my life with her, two people fused into one soul, yet two separate individuals with their
But then again I think that she always had unspoken white lies so as not to hurt me.
Ironically, that is the thing that
I think hurt me the most.
I still live wounded from a broken heart,
and even though it was never actually true—
– that she was mine, when she was not –
—when I was living and thinking that, she
was mine, and not knowing— that she was gone – that was the happiest time of my life
She is the love of my life.
I do not know how to top that sort of resplendent joy.
I thought about how to go on with my life. I yearned dig a hole and crawl in it, and die. That was my
But my life goes on with or without my will. So now, I just get up each morning and breathe. Then I do
it again and again until I fall asleep at night.
I try not to dream of her, but I do, I wake up, and remember that she is not here. That really burns,
aches, and throbs like a red-hot hammer hit me in the chest.
Love comes in so many forms. Every love is different.
This one felled all my joy like a slain tree.