I have no idea if I will forever chase your memory. Be haunted by the phrase, “There’s no one like you". No one has ever caused so much pain under the guise of unconscionable pleasure. The only person that I have ever truly loved is the one person that will never truly love me.
There seems to be no life after death, no re-incarnation. I am condemned to chasing a feeling that will never be replicated on this plane of existence. I never wanted you to go, I guess living with me must have damn near killed you! Must of been torture having someone love you so completely, to be exulted as Queen of a domain that you didn't work to build.
You're so beautiful in the plainly obvious ways, yet, so obviously plain to almost everyone but me. I have cared for better people, those who are more beautiful but no one that I have ever wanted more. I miss your kiss, your touch, your wonderfully flawed way of loving me today and your own special way of caving in my heart the next. You are at once my love, my heat, my inspiration, the bane of my existence and my life's biggest frustration. You possess a huge heart that is just morbidly incapable of loving anyone but yourself, except for those miraculous moments of clarity that seem to strike you when you are in need. Yet, every time those big brown eyes profess their love for me, with a single glance, I melt. Invariably the next day you coolly apologize for some horrendous transgression that you somehow justify because of that love!
Breaking my heart was never enough for you, no, not even, not for you. Your real gift comes in the form of complete and utter demoralization. There is no gain in breaking my heart for you, only completely shattering what little hope remains will do. Then you leave, only to return and refuse to mend the pieces. You return only to remind me of how sick I am to let this process take place in the first place. You return to flash that beautiful crooked smile and remind me of what I really am. To remind that I have been wronged and been down and then and only then do you pleasure me with the phrase “Are we having fun yet"! You remind me that loving you is a crime and for it I have paid the ultimate price-Non-existence. End.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
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