I stood and watched the sun set. The gentle sounds of water lapping at the beach, the quiet calls of the birds, the wind whistling through the trees, it all worked together to create the perfect ambiance. It washed over me, through me, soothed me. This place was perfect in every way. I turned in a slow circle, watching the ghosts of the past flit in and out of my vision. They were everywhere here. There, on the beach. There, in the water. There, on the benches. There, in the pathway. Everywhere. It amazed me that such a small place could hold such massive sway over me. Everything I felt lately had, in an odd circular way, begun and ended here. I was drawn here, to this beach, this meadow. What would life have been like these last two years if we’d never come here? The bad sprang to the forefront of my mind; no dull ache constantly thrumming in my heart, no endless heartache, no unfulfilled dreams, no unreturned feelings. Even as I write this, I can feel the pain. It’s always with me, always emanating from the place inside me that is yours and yours alone. What would a day without this ache feel like? What would it be to feel whole again? A pointless line of thought. I knew with absolute certainty that I would feel this for as long as I lived. Love never fades, nor do its scars.
Unreturned love is an odd thing. It builds and builds inside you, a pressure so great that eventually it begins to choke and smother you. And how do you release all this built up passion and energy? The only true way is to take all this love and give it to the person who rightfully owns you heart, and have them do the same; feed off of each other. In reality that’s hardly ever possible. In most of us, that love builds and builds until it breaks through the dams and barricades we’ve hastily erected to futilely try and contain it. Some snap and lose themselves. Others tell the object of their desire. Sometimes the love is returned. More often it isn’t and we lose ourselves in the sorrow. And still others, myself included, hold it in, building new dams, new barricades, constantly rerouting and shifting loves power. This also never works. Love will always burn its way out of us. So we turn, burn and self destruct. The medium is not always the same, but the end result is: a vessel with no room for love, only hate. I’d reached that point long ago. My heart had been broken badly, and for many years I’d gone through life shutting love out, running on pure hate, reveling in it, loving it, drowning in it. My heart stayed broken, for no heart will ever mend if all that pumps through it is malice, rage and unfiltered hate. You become a husk. An so I carried on that way for years, pushing away everyone, enjoying my exile. That’s where I would be if it weren’t for this place.
A loud chirp jerks me back from my reverie. I turn back in time to see the sun hit the horizon and erupt into wondrous colors. Such beauty. But as I watched the spectacle in front of me, I couldn’t help but think that it paled in comparison to her beauty. Her beauty, beauty that needed no aid from artificial enhancers. She was…well words didn’t do her justice. The moment she entered a room, the energy within changed. It’s as though everyone inside is unconsciously drawn to her. But how could they not be? The sparkle and fire behind those eyes, that alluring half grin that dares you to make her smile, those cheekbones that lift and showcase her dimples, the twist of her lips, one eyebrow cocked teasingly. She has your full attention instantly, and she knows it. Whenever I see her face, I strive to draw out that slow grin. It melts my heart. But it’s always been her eyes that are my biggest weakness. Because on more than one occasion, those eyes have looked me up and down, seen the weakness in me, seen the struggle, seen the hate that lingers, taken my many faults in, and still found me worthy to draw her into my arms. I wonder when I hold her if she feels safe from her troubles, feels protected from her demons, feels love radiating from me. I wonder if she can sense I don’t want to ever let her go, that I want to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible. I wonder if she knows the lengths I would go for her.
Christine Said:
on October 6, 2011 at 10:21 am
This is really, really good…