The day that I meet her, there was something weird and strange about our connection. I didn’t think anything of it, at first, but then I became consumed with her. I wanted nothing else but to get to know her. I wanted to be her best friend, and then her shoulder to cry on, and then who knew what else what would happen.
The problem was that that we both had girlfriends. I’ve already told you how much I love my girlfriend, and how she makes me happy and that whole thing, and that part never changed. But when I met this girl she reminded me of all the reasons why the world was beautiful, but also why I shouldn’t be in it anymore. It was like untucking a shirt after a long day of work.
I began to spiral down, and think about nothing but ending it at any time, and that made me feel much better about life. I knew that I wouldn’t have to deal with college anymore, work, or any other problems that I might be having. I started doing drugs again, and smoking and drinking. But I did start writing again, and it had been almost a year since I had written anything worth reading.
She was the freedom I needed, but the freedom I couldn’t live with. I knew the day that I first kissed her that I would be truly throwing away everything I had worked so hard to create for myself, but I couldn’t stay away. It felt so nice, the end of it all I mean. Of course soon after I had to break up with my girlfriend because what would she do if she found my body one morning? I didn’t want that on her.
Those couple of weeks that turned into a month in half were crazy. I lived for the skin, the touch and love of the world. She was perfect for this world that I created for my demise. I guess I never really thought about all the things that she would feel when I left since she was just as unhappy as me. But she came alive with every kiss, her thoughts were brighter with every touch. What was I to do now that love was there?
I realized too late that I had to go back. I couldn’t leave my mom, my family and my girlfriend who created a future for us with the house and kids in mind. I had fucked up and I had to go back in time. But time machines aren’t real, and what I did was unreal, and what was I to do?
I still don’t know whether or not I can’t say her name, because of everything that I did to her, or if I say it all the feelings would drown me. I brought her to life as I slowly let her kill me, and then I left. But what’s done is done, and can never be undone.
Much Love C.S. Mann