Tragedy

The sore and sweet reality, my love, is that I’ve always been a tragedy. In me are the broken promises, the lost loves, the children who ran away from home and never came back...not because of some twisted fate, but because that is what I find most beautiful. It is so entirely impossible to relay such a passion on paper...to give understanding when I don’t understand myself. I am a tragedy...doomed to be without home or husband or gentle life...to travel the face of the earth seeking and searching while the wives shake their heads with slow, sad eyes at my passing...to see the sun rise and set every day, moving through lives as the shadow of a smile, knowing that I will leave nothing: no children or legacies. I will fade as the fallen leaves melt into the ground. I am no beauty, my love, only its fondness, and when the time comes, I will leave you...not because I no longer love you, but because it simply must be. I will leave because I belong everywhere and nowhere, to nothing and to everything. I have always adored sad stories...the kind that end in “what if”. What if I stayed? I heard once long ago that the Great Adventure never involves comfort. I am the breath of endless lives, the memories of forever, the waters and the wind and the starry skies. Compression is my nightmare. How can I be all of these things yet be one human that fits so perfectly into your arms? I love you, and I will always love you, but I beg you please do not love me. Do not ask me to stay. Do not hold me to you because it will kill me. I may be a tragedy, but I could not bear to read your story and see it end as mine will. It is this sadness that is so breathtakingly beautiful to me. I close my eyes and weep, tears soaking memories and “what ifs” until they are consumed and float up into the cloudy sky and I smile. I seek the feeling that are so powerful that they tear me apart and build me up again...eyes searching each other’s souls, muscles tensing with laughter, terror paralyzing the flesh, that feeling of awe inspired wonder, the loss that follows when it all ends. That is why I left, and that is why I’ll leave again.