“The biggest coward is a man who awakens a woman’s love with no intention of loving her.”
This picture is of Cafe Grumpy in Chelsea, it’s funny how ironic serendipity can be; because grumpiness was a definite composite of the relationship that began here. An indication that the “grand scheme of things” was tapping me on the shoulder and I should’ve taken a hint. It was here that I established the most earth-shaking love I’ve known thus far, though in that moment I didn’t know he would become that, part of me was more surprised by the electricity between us than anything else. You see, that old adage, opposites attract would very much apply in this case. I’m talking about the man I’ve mentioned previously; the vampire. He looked like one, I call him that because he really did. Tall, pale and strangely beautiful, an acquired taste I’m sure but enthralling all the same, enough to capture me for much too long…
Let me stop there. I could go into a long tale of my doomed love and all that, but I’ve realized that our story is something that needs as few details as possible. We’ve all had that one epic love that changes us forever, I changed completely, but most of all I realized the person I am is a tall order and deserves someone with the honor befitting it. He most certainly didn’t have that and I’m being fair. It’s been more than a year and though it still pains to write about him and the life we shared, i feel it necessary to at least impart whatever wisdom i collected. The person he is isn’t as important as who i became and maybe one day soon I’ll be able to write a darkly, humorous narrative about my experience with him as it was both fascinating and horrible. For now i will say that when a person shows you who they are believe them, period. I chose not to believe, but instead tried to wrangle the good out of him like a wild animal. A wasted attempt, as there wasn’t any there. The person he chose to be wasn’t interested in goodness or betterment but rather an unattainable completeness, a kind of personal nirvana. He existed for himself alone, in the purest state of selfishness.
I couldn’t see this or maybe didn’t want to, I was much too young and bamboozled. He took advantage in his way and i soon abandoned my fiery, obstinate nature; when considering his slithering manipulation, it irks me to think i remained, bearing the brunt. Never again. Seneca said, “All cruelty springs from weakness,” and he was the weakest man I’ve ever known. Now what sane woman would stay in a situation like that for so long? When he allowed himself to be open, he was brilliant. I would feel indescribably loved, intoxicated and drinking in his words hungrily till i was three sheets to the wind. It was then he would go in for the kill, withholding that desired affection as a mode of punishment if i dared step out of line. It was always the worst surprise. In my opinion, anyone that uses a person’s good intention as a means of control should be shot. He used everything around him to fill the cavern within himself, he was the emotional undead and could only survive off the life-force of others.
He ran me dry, dry as the vast desert i lived in, dry as the sandy beaches of my islands and I crumbled between his fingers. Do i have any regrets? Nah. Soon, I’ll be fine and much too smart for my own good. There’s an excerpt from one of my favorite poems by Pablo Neruda that gathered my experience in one fell swoop, so i will end with that;
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.