Somewhere between prose and poetry.
"I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me."
Why? Why did I screw it up? Was it all me?
She told me she loved me. Her kammoben. Her 'heart spirit'. And I realised I loved her too.
Maybe too much. She still had a connection to her ex who had told her he didn't love her after quite a few years.
You'd think he'd have figured it out sooner.
I wanted to be with her, to posess her, to join with her. Maybe she just wanted a guy with a ready-made powerful reality. I had one.
(Note the past tense.)
And it shifted and warped to her own. Maybe she wanted this subconsciously. Maybe she was disappointed that she was able to mould it so easily.
Maybe she didn't realise that our realities, our hopes and dreams weren't as different as she would later decide.
We split one weekend. A violent weekend. Not physically, but emotionally. I was reading signs that she was backing away.
Maybe having second thoughts, but she was a bit committed to what she'd said before to make it a clean break.
She told me about other guys chasing her. Mentioned them a lot.
She asked me if I thought I was a rebound.
It did make sense.
She showed me a glimpse of happpiness, then tore it away.
She kept in contact. She said she didn't want me to wait, but sent me a gift. A book. It meant something to both of us.
Hope flared. But she wanted me to end us completely as she wasn't strong enough to.
It killed me. Again.
We got back in touch again a month or so later. Met at a friend's party (same as where we'd first met). There she ended it. The circle was complete.
I died again.
I talked to our mutual friend. Somehow the story had shifted when my kammoben had been telling it.
My chance to tell it rose an eyebrow. The friend believed me. Some of my love's stories didn't quite add up.
Her actions didn't match her words.
I learned some new things about her. The emptiness and aching was fading. So soon.
She genuinely did care. She probably did love me. I may even have been her kammoben. A once in a lifetime connection.
But I can face the day again. The shields are back up, but she showed me how good it can be when they come down.
And one day, they may come down again.
For that, I thank her.