If Forever Comes

Maybe a love that flamed so bright could only burn us into the ground.

Tears resurfaced. I tried to bite them back, but they bled free. And I knew they would fall endless, ceaseless, even when my eyes were dry. Never would I stop grieving her. This love was eternal.

There had been absolutely nothing I could do to cover up the love I had for her, no desires or goals or bodies dense enough to bury the need that had consumed me since the first time I'd glimpsed her. She'd stolen something from me that I'd never get back, something she kept hidden deep beneath the surface in places I doubted either of us could see, in places neither of us could define.

Maybe the most important question was the one that burned bright, the one that nagged, the one that promised Christian could never be scraped from my consciousness. No blade was sharp enough. No cut could ever go deep enough.

Maybe my steps were slow. Maybe it was because I was relishing each one, like each represented an obstacle we'd had to climb, the trials we'd had to overcome. Maybe each one was a triumph, each a celebration. Even though each step was measured, in reality, I was running toward him. Running toward my forever. Because I realized I didn't have one without Christian. He was my all.

Not the way I knew Christian's touch would burn me, the way it blessed me and bled me, the way he would singe me as his fingers traced my skin, the way he would sear me with his kiss. I couldn't handle anything so intense.

One neither of us could bear. Life sometimes puts so much weight on our shoulders we crumble, bends us so far we break.

But I knew... I knew I was the only one who fit I that void, because it was Elizabeth that perfectly filled mine, too.