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“I wanted us to be Mickey and Mallory with no killing. A cocaine-less Clarence and Alabama, with a side of Bogart and Bacall. I wanted us to be beautiful and damaged and to burn out young. I wanted the world to tear us apart before reality could destroy us with facts. I wanted to die in his arms like Juliet and for him to take his own life in his grief over mine. I wanted nothing to be practical. I wanted nothing to be mundane, ordinary or average. I wanted to never have to deal with being human again. Together, my love and I were perfect.

I thought I had been in love before but nothing compared to this, to him. To this beast, we had created in the dark with only our hands touching and our words exchanged. We loved each other like no other and whatever this monster was, we would feed it. We would keep it alive and growing until it consumed us both. All those who came before him were relationships of convenience or spite. This was real, realer in a way that I could not explain to even him.

I left everything behind for him. I took what I could carry in both arms and ran to him in the middle of the night. He understood. He knew that we couldn’t stay in that place long, but he was willing to confront anyone who had a problem with my being there. The person I left in the middle of the night kicked the door in, sending the deadbolt flying across the apartment. The door was splintered and I was hidden in a closet in the bathroom while the confrontation happened.”

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