The Red Stain

He said to me, "When relationships end, the only thing that remains is either the love or the hate." It was spoken like a promise. As if all romantic undertakings, however unique, would converge towards this dismal eventuality. We were sitting down, for coffee, or dinner, I don't particularly remember. I just remember that I turned to him, this friend of mine who got burned pretty bad in his last relationship, my eye's brimming with contempt, and told him point blank, "Wow, that's deep".

I didn't believe it. I was naive then, a passionate innocent of the worst kind. I knew with all my heart that true love never fails. If you love someone, if you truly love them, then all else will fall into place. As long as the fire burns, the wrong can be made right. There is always the opportunity to talk, and in that simple act elicit understanding, and the final acceptance and catharsis.

I drew my courage from my current relationship. There, even after all the late arguments, the long discussions, the emotional roller coaster rides, our tenacity inspired my own wonderment. "This must be love," I said to myself, "we wouldn't have lasted as long otherwise."

It was a matter of pride as well. I will not be the hand that ends our relationship. I started it, with sound mind and in good conscience, and I mean to keep it. I did, until last week.

There is only the echoing emptiness now. The gap left behind. Wait, let me reword that, the gash left behind by an ended relationship. It felt like something essential was forcibly rended from me, grasped and torn away. And what remains now, is the simplified whole of me. The me that exists when there is nothing opposite, when there is no complement. I've forgotten who that was, and the time has come to find my way back. There was no other choice.

But it cannot be denied that things are much simpler now. When your goals are only your own, freedom is assured. But what freedom is worth the price of forgetting love? I'll find out, but never forget. The blood red stain of the love that remains splattered across my being will see to that.