The ghost of us

Too Good To Be True

Have you ever felt pure, unadulterated bliss? A peace, a joy so pure and intense that you know it has to be too good to be true? Like you know in your core that things this great don't exist, they don't really happen and you have an aching feeling in your gut that all too soon, even sooner than it came, that it would be ripped from your arms? 

Yeah, me too. So much so that it's my life, right now. I knew when she said she finally wanted me. that she was here to stay, that it was way too good to be true, that in an instant anything could tear the only thing I've ever fought for right out of my grasp. I hardly had her at all, did I?

It took a week. Seven days. 168 hours, 10,080 minutes, and just as quickly as she came crashing into me, she left. She left like a wave that kisses a shore as it parts to a new body of water; But she left this time without so much as a goodbye. She left the hangers in the closet, a letter on the bed, and my heart at my feet. I just knew it was too good to be true.

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The day after she left Darwin, her clothes were expedited to my closet and her body took up a new lease in my bed, the best leasing agreement I could ever imagine. We were happy, giddy like two love struck teenagers moving in together from their parents house. All i could feel was peace, complete, at ease with life. 

We did so much in those seven days that it felt like we had always been right next to each other, arm in arm, fingers laced so tightly that nothing could untie them. Or so I thought.  Walks on the beach at night, dancing with the sand between our toes and the stars applauding our loves brightest flame, like a bonfire, swirling and dancing in the wind. 

We skinny dipped together at 3 am while we held each other close , sharing body heat and stolen kisses. Coffee never could be the same again, we would drink it together hourly, daily, sitting on our couch and making fun of whatever came on TV, knowing we weren't following a fucking thing because we finally had something, someone better to focus on. 

My bed would never feel the same after hours spent with our legs tangled together, our bodies covered only by messy sheets, while we stroked the sweat from our faces and breathed each other in, our chests rising and falling slowly in sync.

 Reading, writing, music, kissing, holding another hand, nothing would ever feel as right, as good, as purely copasetic as it did with her, and god knew it would never feel right with anyone else. Ever again. 

I thought we finally got it right, I thought this was finally meant for us, to be our time, our lifetime together to get married and have a family and grow old together... That was until I came home from work and saw it, the letter that shattered me all over again.

My dearest Scarlet,

Let me start by saying I will never be able to thank you for giving me a lifetime with you in just a week, because I swear it felt like we had been in one another's arms for 40 years, not 7 days. I know that when you get home, this will hurt you, and believe me it hurts me so much more, but I can't do this to you. There's too much guilt. I've hurt so many people, but the one person I never wanted to hurt, I destroyed. You.  You deserve so much more than me. I can't be what you need. 

Don't blame yourself though please. I love you, my dark princess.

Forever,

Octavia

I sat on what was once our bed as tears ran without fail or regard down my now bright red cheeks. It was like the day she told me she was getting married all over again. I couldn't breathe. I was so broken that my own sobs fell silently on my own deaf ears. 

With the letter still in my hands and hours of staring at the only shirt she left behind, I got up and forced my feet to carry me to the bathroom. I turned the water on, as hot as I could take it because truthfully third degree burns without a doubt had to feel better than the suffocating fire in my chest. The smoke was smoldering in my lungs and I was choking on the thick grey smoke she left behind like ashes to a forgotten flame. I sat under the scolding hot water, fully dressed for god knows how long. Tears being masked by falling water.

Flashbacks started to replay in my head, specifically the shower we took last night together after coming home covered in sand from the white shores by our- no.. my- house. 

We had too much wine, I had surprised her with a candlelit picnic on the beach. Our favorite blanket, her favorite red wine, our favorite Italian place, and so many candle. Her face was illuminated by them and she left me speechless, breathless. I was captivated by her features, the way her lips curled as I led her to our secluded secret place, the way her eyes lit up as she looked at me, her hazel eyes turning into pools of honey. The way her nose crinkled as I kissed her soft, rosy cheeks, or the way her now brown hair fell softly on her face as the fresh, warm ocean air blew it around. She was immaculate, she left me awestruck, and I studied her before I pulled her waist into me and kissed her pale neck, watching chills raise the hair on her arms as my left hand ran down her body.  

We stumbled in the door, utterly and completely engulfed in wandering hands and urgent kisses, turning the shower on as we clumsily yet carefully undressed each other for the second time that night. She ran her fingers down my tattooed back as she traced her lips up my shoulder. The water fell around us, drenching us as we pulled at the curves of each other. After we slowed our breaths, we helped wash off the night and the sand from our bodies. She washed my hair as I sat at her feet, holding tightly to her legs as if she were going to disappear, and little did I know... she was. 

Now it was just me where both of our feet once stood, stuck in a home flooded with her scent, her touch, her kiss, her essence. And I sobbed. I finally let it all go and let the pain, anger, confusion, and emptiness wash over my body. I shook and convulsed with the thought of her fingers running through my hair as we stared into the eyes of the other at night, the feel of her soft, bitten lips on mine, the way her perfume left a permanent etching in my walls and sheets. 

She wasn't the person I fell in love with ten years ago, not anymore. No, she was more than that. She was my best friend, my soul mate, my person. She was the air around me filling my lungs, the fire on the beach that gave us the only light to see the person we loved in front of us as we tangled into the others body, never being able to get close enough but trying anyway. She was the sun and the stars, she was the waves and the shore, she was the good and the bad, the boring and the exciting. She was all of the things that I have ever read or written about. 

And me? I never even came close. But for her, god I would live this pain for a million years for her to kiss me one. last. time. 

I dried my now black and green hair with the towel we last shared when I heard a knock at the front door. I ignored it to the best of my ability as I trudged to my closet to replace my sopping wet clothes with whatever remnants of her she left behind. I would have to settle on her Bon Jovi tee-shirt. 

Another knock at the door as I clasped my chain necklace around my throat. The closest i would ever get to her hands around my neck holding me in the most urgent and gentle ways as she inhaled me

Then finally the door flew open and I heard a voice, but it was the last voice I ever expected to hear again. 

"Why can't I leave you.. Why can't I quit you Scarlet.." 

It was her. I kept my back to the door as I forced my voice to become audible and air to fill my lungs

"I don't know, but I can't ever quit you, even if it seems too good to be true."

And then, she crashed into me, just like the waves kissing the shore right before they part to a new body of water.