The Story of Love: Part I

I remember it all…

The sweet nothings whispered in my ear in the aftermath of sun-blazed lovemaking… The familiar skip of my heart whenever you would call… The taste of honey on my tongue whenever I said your name…  Truly this was love- truly I was favored among all of Cupid’s victims! A willing prisoner of passion planted in the heart- a canvas, a backdrop, a sidewalk, for you to perform your shining art.

Your art was me.

As sweet a song as ever the nightingale did sing, didst thou sing to me.  Promises of forever and eternity.  Of courting me and learning me.  As our fingers intertwined you implied that no matter how dry the season, there would be no deserting me.

And I- believed you.  Had you been true, I would have been deemed lovestruck from Heaven, but now that you have turned us into a lie and broken my heart inside, I am a fool.  For trusting.  For hoping.  For believing.

I want to hate you, but each time my eyes narrow in anger they just crack in sorrow.  A shudder goes through this temple, and the floodgates come undone… You tore us apart, and drowned me in my own tears.

I can’t even float away- I just lay here… choking… dying… still foolishly hoping that you might return to turn back the tide and rescue me as you have so many times before…  But you don’t.  You’ve found another Lois.  Found another hopeless… romantic.

Someone to believe that cape and S on your chest means you’re Superman, not understanding that the S means you’re Simply a man… altogether unreliable.  Teasing the open hearted with attractive words that mock the craving to be desirable, just long enough for you to realize that you don’t want a woman – you want an idol.

Someone to worship at your convenience and give the appearance of dedication, until another flashier deity comes along and steals your motivation… 2 weeks or 2 years- it’s all the same for the life loved in vain.  My ticks tocked and then broke when you said you loved me, but it seems like yours just hit a freeze frame, waiting for an emotionally stimulated D-Day, for you to drop those bombs and blow me away, then press play… Treating me like a video game, and now you’re back in free play, while I lay cracked and broken amid my shattered dreams and other cherished things that have given themselves over to rot and decay…

Sometimes I lay at night… Thinking of you… Staring at the stars… Wondering if you’re staring at them too… My hand rises against my will, stretching out towards the sky… Whether to pull you out of this tragedy back to my side, or to lose myself in the eternal wrinkles of the night… I do not know.  I cannot tell.

Sometimes I wish for hell, for at least that would give me a sense of feeling… And then other times I wish for Heaven, for that might give me true healing…

But in the end… I choose to live with the heartbreak of you.

Cuz that’s the curse of love right?  The forgotten remember everything…

While the loved just shrug, laugh it off, and move on.

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