The Perfect Love Affair

The Perfect Love Affair:  It takes you seven places up to Heaven, and seven places down to Hell.

I bared my heart and soul to you, peeled every inch of my old beliefs and notions away, and stood before you with my soul stark naked, with the fresh pink of my new essence, my heart on my palm.

You revered me in return. You acknowledged the herculean effort I put in my evolution, and you were grateful for it. I was becoming an extension of myself, the kind of extension that fit seamlessly in the pattern of You; much like the perfection of a missing puzzle piece finally fitting, or locking eyes with a stranger as the rain drenched the earth with bliss.

It was the perfect love affair. There was no fraudulent attraction that befouls young minds, no magic of youthful juvenility, no lie of the untamed heart. There was Damage, and there was Love that repaired that Damage. There were hollow beams on which stood our edifices; we were, in turn, pillars to these piles which stood proud of the mutilation that life brought along. We were band aids, that covered the other’s bullet wound, magic Elixir that healed scars that were centuries old.

Besides another , You are the only being I had ever prayed for. I am not a steady believer in God, my Faith dwindles almost as often as my Fate. I am always Thankful, but rarely had I shown unswerving Belief and prayed unfailingly. That was before you became an infatuation of my  survival instinct; well before my subsistence became dependent on you. Now I prayed, with all my will and faith and sincerity, I prayed for you to be mine. I lifted my hands and prayed to be only yours.  There were hurdles, huge barriers that you needed to cross to attain the way of life you had dreamt of. I dreamt of it with you, shared that dream and made it my own. I prayed with all my yearn, all my ache, as if it were a matter of my life and death and not yours. I never recognized when they fused to be one and the same.

I saw my prayers work magic, my appeals before the One drew you closer to your desire every step of the way. It was euphoric, to see my humble words and insignificant passion work wonders in the life of whom i cherish most. Yet you never believed in Him; you claimed you had seen enough malice in the world to believe in Kindness anymore.

It was then I had an inkling you never saw me the way I saw you. You were the answer to my prayers; I was never the subject of yours.

In spite of all differences, the contrasts and contradictions, you are the Love of my Life, the object of my Desire, the center of my Universe.  I ran to you when Life came hard on me, and found indescribable pleasure in being the shoulder you leant on. We are galaxies in our own accord; effortlessly amalgamating into meteors to help cork the black holes that appear occasionally in our core.

With rose colored glasses on our eyes, ignoring every little nudge that Reality gave us now and then, we were floating through time, space and dreams. Every day was a pathway to a new avenue, to a new plethora of desires and hopes and ambitions.

I believe it was then that we stoked the wrath of Life. We infuriated Her, giving no heed to Her warnings, paying no attention to Her advice. There were miniature tempests, a little transposal of our equations that was conspired by Real Life. She engulfed us in Her acquisitive details and there was a little parting of ways that we endured. The point of the matter being, we endured for a little while, and other times we were drained by the effort it took to fight back and emerge strengthened. Life had greater,  unkind moves up Her sleeve.

So today, as I sit here writing the story of our lives, I admit a little defeat. I confess that Life has, at long last, succeeded at Her conspiracy; She has convinced me to believe that our bond is not as covalent as it seemed. It is not as enduring, as prevailing as I thought it to be.Whenever I pass by any reminder of our glorious past , I am forced to see the bruises that this world has inflicted on the fresh, weak rind of my being now, when you are not there to protect me. There are no blames to be placed; you are too busy brandishing your own sword in your war than to become my Shield. I am afraid to look in the mirror, to meet my eyes and answer; Where I lost my essence, where in the world did  I diminish my Ego, and laid my foundation to rock and quake?

As much as I am proud of it, I now feel equally destitute about the reality that if someone were to peel off the layers, see through my being with X-Ray vision, all they would find is You, carved into the gravestone of a soul I now house.

*fictitous story, all pictures taken from  http://fadedjeanss.tumblr.com/