Love

It's hard to believe how much in love we were. You were my first thought when I awoke, my last before I went to sleep. In between, you were every step, every breath, every thing I touched, every thing I felt. I didn't care who I hurt, whether I lied or stole, what I left behind. There was only you, and for you there was only me. We said anything was possible with our love. We said we'd be willing to burn in hell for our love. We ditched our pasts and embraced our future.

It lasted a while. Then it unraveled fast. Love became contempt, mutual, long lasting. Contempt became our parting, mutual, everlasting.

Afterwards, I couldn't even think about you. I couldn't look at our pictures. At the gifts you'd given to me. Every memory brought anger and pain. To this day, though so much time has passed and I've moved on, I remember the bad feelings like they just happened. I remember the love too. That love—uncontrollable, carefree, careless—for which we were willing to abandon everything. That love, which assumed forever. That love, whose loss changed me forever.

In time I picked myself up and stitched my heart. My outlook warmed. I managed to love again too. But never like that. Never so lost and thoughtless like that. Love takes work, love takes discipline. That's the lesson I learned.

Despite everything, if I'm honest with myself, if I could go back in time to when you and I were together, I know that I'd do it all over again. I'd lose myself in that love and then I'd lose that love. Sadly, I'd do so even knowing what I know now. It needed to happen when it happened. But there's no going back now. Thank God there's no going back.