A Story I Tell Myself
It is a story I tell myself.
I repeat it over and over until
it becomes my story, my plan, my hope and
for a while, just a little while,
I am able to convince myself that it’s all true.
It sinks in, it makes sense, it’s easy and right.
Yet it remains just a story I tell myself but
Even he believes it.
An epic love is one we knew in our deepest heart space.
A love that remained in secret, just below the surface and still does.
The one we don’t ever speak of, it’s too painful.
A love where all the signs and signals said “beware”, “stay away”.
It was a Cinderella fantasy come to life.
A love to good to be true and was.
It was the kind of love that will stay in our hearts and at the edge of our minds forever.
It was a love that was never meant to last.
It was too passionate, too intense and raw to maintain forever.
It came into our hearts like an avalanche of emotion, a storm of lust.
And just as violently as it came, it was gone leaving us lost and broken.
But in spite of the pain, it changed us for the better.
It changed us into women who felt a level of passion and love we will never forget,
could never imagined was possible and one that may never come again.
If we are honest with ourselves, we knew from the beginning that it was a love that was never really ours to keep.