Life is too short for boring stories

I was so sure, so, so, so, so sure or was I just as sure as I am sure of myself, always just so vaguely? No, I was absolutely sure, as sure as I could be, that the moon would rise again the next evening, as sure as I could be sure that it would always stop raining at some point, as sure as I was I could be sure that you could never touch me again, that the burning in me would no longer be there, that your being with me ignited, that your encouragement no longer burned itself into me, as it was possible at that time.

After all, I had worked for a long time to drive you out of me, long after you left, long after I had finally admitted to myself that you were serious about your turning away. I had accepted it, carried it and carried it through. Even more, I had managed to keep all the good moments that I was allowed to experience with you together, like small, glittering pearls, threaded around my neck, and to sink all the unpleasant and pain in the lake. I was at peace with myself and my world, but above all with you. I could breathe freely again and found my smile and confidence again. At least that’s what I thought. So, I had calmed myself down.

But then you appeared, reappeared with me and in my life, completely unexpected and unforeseen. Did you even think for a moment, even the whiff of a moment, what you are performing in my life by destroying this wonderful illusion that I had so laboriously put together in one fell swoop? Have you even thought about what it means to me if you just show up again, as if I asked you to, as if I had invited you?

My hand slipped thoughtfully over the pearls on the string around my neck, and as my fingers ran over them, the images rose again, every single moment of togetherness, to relive them, right up to that bitter end, and with the end there was that Pain back again, from that time, as if he had never left me, as if he had only taken a short breath to dig into me even more.

You still touched me, you touched every fiber of my soul. You were still able to kindle this burning in me. Your encouragement still burned into me. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t escape you, not then and not now. As much as I resisted, I couldn’t keep the distance, not then and not now. As much as I raged, I couldn’t erase your picture from me, not then and not now.

But then I made up my mind, took the pearl necklace around my neck and with a strong jerk I tore it so that the pearls that held the memories fell from the string and disappeared into the depths of the black, opaque water of the lake. Maybe I still think of you from time to time, possibly even of us, but it can actually no longer affect me.

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