We Were Inevitable

My happiness was in her smile, and the way she glided effortlessly around our home… and everywhere, really. She was contained, but wild– a calculated storm. She was the sound of a piano, of an acoustic guitar– calming music that fills you up and warms your heart. That was her.

We were never a match. I knew that. In my heart, I knew that.

When I first saw her dancing by herself in the crowded street of paired dancers, I knew that. But I couldn’t look away. It all felt inevitable. She felt inevitable. A flash of the memories, happiness, and frustration we would share flickered in my head, and dissolved as slowly as it had come. I never wanted to make an assumption. Not with her.

I asked her to dance. And she said ‘Okay,’ and fluttered her eyelashes and smiled at me in that special ‘knowing’ way that I would come to expect.

And that was it. We became inseparable, and I loved every moment of it. I think she did, too.

We never planned a future. That was her thing– she always wanted to live in the moment. Why worry about tomorrow?

I was a worrier. It was almost like a hobby to me; if I wasn’t worried, you could bet everything that I would find something to worry about. She worried me a lot.

She would swing from one exciting venture to the next, never quite hanging onto one moment long enough to prepare for the transition between the two. When she didn’t have anything to fuel it, she drank. We drank. We drank a lot. We fell into collective holes, and repeatedly dug ourselves out.

Time made it worse. I made it worse. The holes got deeper each time, and became more and more difficult to come back from. I spent so much time getting myself out, that I couldn’t do more than coach her out of her own chasm– where before I would jump in, and lift her out.

We never planned a future, because we never had a future. I know we’d never have one if we stayed together. All we would have is time passed in moments fueled by weed and gin. She deserves more than to be destroyed and rebuilt, over and over and over again.

I let her go.

That sounds like a shitty way to phrase it. Like I’m some employer who just isn’t making enough money, so they have to ‘let someone go’. But that’s what I did.

I will always love her. Memories of her will always fill my breath, and I will never forget the first moment I saw her; that I spoke to her.

I will never forget that we were inevitable.