The most painful moment of my entire life and consequently the most unforgettable was the last night I ever spent with her.
We just lay together, helpless to save our relationship. I laid awake holding her body intimately close to mine. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t physically let her go because she was forcing me to emotionally let her go. I could sense her unease at first that she was restraining her desire for me so I wouldn’t be tempted to make love to her. She lay awake for a bit, as if guarding herself against the idea of having me awake beside her with that temptation. She gave in and fell asleep soon. Not I. I lay there all night, clutching the most beautiful woman to my chest. I truly loved her with all my being. She felt like a part of me. The best part. I was helpless, I was hopeless. It was excruciating. I thought of death and drowning and falling for eternity. I swore to never feel that way again. Even the worst pain is worth one memory of pleasure and sometimes those memories are the same.
She asked me to draw her a picture of a castle once. Her castle. She was a princess you see, and I thought her my queen. I could never fulfill this request. All I could draw, could paint, was her. She filled me up: my eyes when shut, my mouth when empty, my heart when unsuspecting.
It was just a picture of a fantasy, an image of a dream she once had. We dreamt so grande together once. But dreamers always weep.
A painting she could never touch, never taste, never feel. The sight of a place she would never be. With a glimpse she would visit but never plan to stay.
I could not paint you a castle, my love, for that would never suffice. I would have built you one. With this heart and these two hands I would have spent my life building something wonderful with you.
Now all I have are your framed images of joy and hope and love, captured recordings of expressions you showed me once. You showed me the real you and I gave you everything I knew to give. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t enough. I can’t look at them without crying. I can’t remember you without dying.
Our castle is lost, buried in the sand of time. I can’t even remember what it looks like; I was never good at drawing castles.