We had an extraordinary love. Together we were a thrilling, intense, unforgettable storm.
For reasons only known to demons and gods, when my naked skin touched yours your heart violently intervened and boldly commanded my heart to dance.
I never put up a fight. I just lay there night after night wondering how a human who seemed so delicate, tender and fragile on the surface could have the inner strength and determination to mercilessly override my heartbeat and force a fusion that eternally changed its pulsating rhythm.
The collision of our two hearts shattered and spun me out of all control. It stirred me to experience a wild but melancholy madness for you as I found pieces of us glistening and crackling like lightning in everything, everywhere. I underestimated how far I could fall and I foolishly lost myself in you and your alluring perilous love.
You see, in the aftermath of what we shared, I’ve come to understand something—love is not always sweet, kind and gentle.
It is also unintentionally cruel and fearsome and it naively doesn’t realize the devastating consequences of its actions. When the heart wants something so badly it will stop at nothing to escape the ribcage and reach for its desire, it is unstoppable. It is naive to believe that love will patiently wait or that it will tentatively step slowly on roses when it finds a rare and intoxicatingly strong connection. Love will take a million thorns in its side and still not falter despite the tales of caution and grace we are repeatedly told.
So, you may think I am side-stepping my responsibilities here and that I am asking for you to take the blame for the aches I now carry with me. Yes. It is true. My heart-fueled anarchy must be because of you. I have travelled to heaven and hell and yet still I have not found another explanation for the equal measure of pleasure and pain that you ignited in me or for the crazy games you beckoned my insecurities to play.
You provoked a weakness in me that easily allowed you to kidnap my trembling emotions and the entirety of how willingly I surrendered can only be your fault. I know this without doubt because no other love has ever made me feel anything close to the elegant but wicked sensation you caused in me.
Your ocean colored eyes pierced through me and awakened shadowy extremes that I never knew existed. You unlocked, captivated and consumed me and ventured deep into my soul like a whirlwind, unraveling me complex layer by layer and without a whisper you took all that I contained. I remained still, helplessly trapped between the confusion of enchanting nightmares and terrifying vividly real dreams.
We were a raging forest fire that just had to eventually burn out. Nothing that bright and blinding can possibly last forever. Our story eventually exploded and turned to stardust before slipping straight through our fingertips. All that is left is the charred, serene, silent haunting remains that float around me like dead leaves wearily falling from tired old trees.
I am not sure that I will every fully recover from the chemical thunderstorm you enticed me into, or that I even want to. I survive it only through blaming you and reminding myself in every moment to breathe and exhale the unbearable pain of emptiness, loneliness and longing I’ve endured since you recklessly left this bittersweet romance without a farewell.
You inflicted an everlasting torturous love upon me, from which I will never escape. You were a tragic distraction from the ordinary and despite my greatest attempts your presence cannot be unfelt or forgotten, even though you have now gone.
How am I supposed to continue when fragments of me exist like traitors within the chilling memories of you?
All I can do is pray faithfully for another once-in-a-lifetime roaring thunderstorm to arrive and remove the curse of the ghostly nostalgic remnants so that I can finally be set free. It is my only hope.
“It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.” ~ E. Forrester
Author: Alex Myles
Editor: Travis May