Ruined

I lost a woman who meant more to me than anyone I've ever known. She ruined me, unfortunately. For all time. The rest of my life. 

How does it feel, sir, to be so ruined? To be completely, utterly ruined? To realize that you could never in your life have something so great as what you had with her for a brief moment of your life? 

Well, it feels bad. 

Does it make you want to give up? Does it make you want to hurt yourself, hurt her, hurt anyone? Does it make you want to die?

I feel grateful for what I had because it was a rare gift that I never expected. I know I can't have her back, but that doesn't negate the beauty of what happened between us. It doesn't take any of it away. It's okay for me to feel sad because I lost something of great worth. My sadness just means I miss her and what we had. 

There's sadness because she's not mine. There's also sadness for the next woman I'm with. She will never have me completely because a part of me will always belong to The Great Perhaps that was the love of my life. When I kiss her, I'll be kissing two women. When I make love to her, I'll be thinking of her. When I wake in the night, I'll wish she was beside me. As I go about my day, I'll wonder what she's doing. When it's her birthday, I'll wish I could send her a card or call her. When it's my birthday, I'll hope she's thinking of me, too. When I'm sick, I will long for her to cuddle with me under a blanket and bring me hot soup and tea. And it will tear at me that I'll never see her brilliant green eyes again, that I'll never see her cry tears of joy or pain. It will wear on me that I'll never hear her voice say my name again. That I will say her name a thousand times in my head and my heart every single day. It will hurt sometimes because my heart will forget and it will feel like it used to, but she's not there. It will cut me sometimes when I remember her laugh. 

It will be a pleasant hell to inhabit--pleasant because I will still have her in a way. The woman I will be with will surely know this, but perhaps she won't care. Maybe there will be enough of me that she can still have that it will feel normal, even though my eyes go distant all the time and I sigh a lot and stare at the ceiling instead of into her eyes. And when I make love to her, I bite my tongue and hope I don't say the name of the one I'm thinking about. 

There will be brief moments when she becomes real. In the shower, I'll feel her skin on mine. When I'm holding my lover, I can close my eyes and imagine her there instead. When I'm driving, I'll think of her next to me. Or that I'm going to see her. When I hear those songs that made me think of her, she'll reappear. And I will dream of her all night long. 

These are things a ruined man does. It won't seem strange to me. I'll be happy enough to remember that I held such a beautiful woman in my arms, that she said my name, and it made her happy to have me hold her. It will be enough to know what we had was real, at least for a little while. 

If she knew, she would surely chide me, for it isn't right to steal from the woman who is there to give to a woman who will never be there. But, my love is mine to give. And I will love her in spite of myself or anyone else. 

If you see me with that faraway look in my eyes. If you see me standing by the window, staring at something or nothing at all. If you hear me sigh my tremendous sighs and bite my lip. I'm probably thinking about her. Because that's what a ruined man does.