It was a nebulous sort of love. The kind that strikes internally, leaving victims unaware of its source, causes, meanings, or intentions. The kind of love that permanently entangles atoms. When lost in it, the danger is invisible. Life’s view is only as broad as the horizon of human limitation allows. Blind to the future, fuzzy pinpoints of light loom in the distance of approaching night, bringing a false sense of comfort to the wayward lover. At times the highway rolls ahead in total darkness, the present occupies immediate surroundings in a bubble of awareness, and the past remains a series of chaotic associations that diminish into the setting sun as diametric gods and demons. Reflections of a dangerous future bounce from their divine eyes into our humbled minds, thus satisfying the Universal Balance, the Cosmic Even Steven, the intergalactic scales of justice pervading our every move.
In him, beneath the shell, masks, layers, addictions, perversions, and unruly passions, lived a potential recognizable by me alone: and that made me special. It made me a savior. It gave me a chance to rewrite a past relentlessly pacing between my mind’s walls. The exhausted inner-child grabbed hold of my better sensibilities and drugged them with excruciating love until I was in too deep to turn back.
His potential was an unmanned nuclear reactor, writhing and pulsating with pure energy and probable meltdown, and in it my bleeding soul smelled home. She honed in, latched on, and tethered us together through passion, habitation, and devastating codependency.
When people asked why I stayed, I offered robotic answers, contrived, defensive, and dishonest. Why did I love a vampire, sucking my inspiration and energy dry? Because I loved that old rut. Because I thought I could change the past. Because pain and dysfunction cracked the windows through which I saw the world, distorting my view of reality. Because after a lifetime of monsters, the nightmare was where I chose to live. When Logic screamed in my ears from the inside out, I shut down and emotionally checked out, (because she was right.) Life was a lie filled with bitter-sweet intentions and whole-heartedly half-hearted efforts. And with that, into the black I disappeared. Into the nether I dissolved, not to be seen as more than a ghostly shell for years. For years, until I was thrown into the fire. Or rather, until the fire found me.
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