"It's Life And Only Life"

It was all about the drugs with him but I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I think I quite liked it because when I was in the deepest darkest depths of my depression drugs made everything better. I suppose I always knew he never really loved me, for he was incapable of love of course. His heart was made of cocaine. Sometimes I’d tell him that I was unable to have sex with him again because my feelings were too strong and his were too weak, he merely shrugged it off until I succumbed to his ego. I guess I feared more than anything that I may eventually lose him. I didn’t sleep for a second the nights we shared a bed, I watched him, terrified each breath would be his last. I wasn’t willing to give him up just yet though. I suppose he was condemned to believe he was done with this world at twenty five years old and a notoriously successful author. He had so much power. Maybe that contributed to how I loved him so, I’d always gone for figures of power because ideologies of control terrified me. I was a terrible example of a feminist. He condoned my reasoning behind persuasion for him to hold a long life. I told him he could get married. He told me I was the only woman he would spend forever with. I knew he lied but I provided him with the necessary encouragement that I would never leave his side and I hope it helped him through the harder days. He loved that I admired him and he was in love with the notion of love but he didn’t love me. I could see it in his eyes and feel it in his touch.

He had other girls of course while I remained faithful, I expected nothing else of the sort from him. I was in constant pain of hearing his stories of the other lovers but remained hopeful in the fact that he never loved them. He never loved anyone. I was his best friend though and nobody could take that away from me. I was closer to him than he ever let anyone and as much as I knew it was entirely for my own good that I walked away at the first given moment I couldn’t drag myself away. I was simply addicted to him. I waited and waited for him to tell me that it was over and we needed to stop seeing each other but he never did. We fought when he was sober and had the time of our lives when he was not. He was never sober, thankfully, so we indulged in our exteriorly perfect relationship. We attended art exhibitions, literature events and film premieres. I felt different on his arm in public. Noticed. He could have anybody he wanted and here I was. I wasn’t pretty but I was unique and people really seemed intrigued by me. I loved that more than anything.

The inevitable day happened two years later as our relationship grew cold. I moved onto better things. I had friends outside of his world now and I was unwilling to allow the continuous heartbreak and the cocaine fuelled redemption continue. It was far more than I myself could handle. Again, I was sure I was able to handle this far more easily than what came next. Alarms were raised firstly after a desperate sounding call from his slightly younger brother came to me. The words, “You need to see him” hit my soul hard.

I kept myself away however for another three days before that call in order to protect myself. I struggled seeing him when he was at his worst before and I was informed that this time it was even more fatal. Fatal was too much of an ideal word to have used for this. When I arrived at his doorstep out of spontaneity and nostalgia he didn’t answer my calls so I let myself in. Climbed all four flights of stairs and let myself into his bedroom. Our bedroom. I’m not even sure how to describe it anymore but it was futile for there he was, sprawled on his mattress, the perfect picture of innocence. Stone cold. He resembled a sleeping child.. Empty bottles of whiskey surrounded his corpse. I knew long before I even walked into the room this was the reality of it, however, I couldn’t even cry, I was merely numb. I rolled him over to reveal his face that had frothed at the mouth. I knew then more clearly than I’d ever known before that he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen and allowed myself the company of in my entire life. It’s almost as if perfection can only be achieved by destruction.