People change. I think sometimes, the replacing of a stagnant creature benefits all … but sometimes, the transformation is almost too much to bear. Some things you can’t go back to. Inevitably, time slips away, and with it leaves the safety of your static net.
I don’t want to be a witness to the end of love. I don’t want to watch, playing out before my eyes, the destruction of something that was so beautiful, so promising. But what can one do, against the power and pull of time? There is no possibility of remaining in the place you started out at. You cannot hold on to the freshness of a new lover; you cannot remain blind to the faults and the ugliness that lie beneath the surface. There will come a time when you have to confront and digest the frailest parts of them; there will come a time when they have to confront and digest the frailest parts of you.
And what happens, when that ugliness takes it toll? You push through, with an unnerving force at first, unwilling to let that darkness win. You remain in love, you remain unphased. Your love, you think, will conquer this hell. But time drags on, and tests your limits. You hit the part where you are no longer afraid to show your dark side. In fact, you begin to stubbornly wave it front of your lovers face. You do not back down, you do not apologize. You must win this fight, for whatever this fight is worth.
You become tangled in your own vengeance. Your lover is over there, you are over here. You try to reach out, but the limits are always getting away from you. It reaches a point where silence is the only way to hurt one another, and the only way to preserve your perceived safety. Funny, isn’t it, that the only real safety is in each other’s arms?
In the silence, you are left to your imagination. Your nightmares plague you with a truth: your lover is going to leave you. They have reached a point where their ugliness no longer empathizes with yours. Their darkness had decided it is infinitely lighter than yours. You feel a separation growing and growing and growing, but all you can do is hold on to the one rope remaining. You try opening yourself up, expressing your fears and anxieties and all of the stupid shit that your lover does not understand, but you are again defeated. Your feelings go against theirs, and therein lies the problem.
Eventually, hope is all you have left. Hope that love really does conquer all. Hope that the vulnerability of opening yourself up, even when you know your lover might not like it, will pay off. Perhaps they will begin to understand that they are the only one in the universe that you have to talk to … the only one you feel safe enough to divulge the most sinister and self-mutilating thoughts to. They don’t understand that they are slowly killing that safety. And maybe you don’t understand that you, as well, are killing the safety for them.
So do we witness the end, while holding our guard, separate from one another? Does the stubbornness create our downfall? Does our inability to try and understand the other, completely destroy the love that we began with?
Or is this just another bump in the road, that will be conquered by the lovers’ joined hands? Will that beautiful love you found yourself floating on, in the beginning, save you now?
I hope so. Because that lover is air, the beating heart, and the promise of salvation.