The End at the Beginning of the Rest of My Life

This week's RemembeRed prompt: In “On Writing” Stephen King wrote, “The scariest moment is always just before you start. After that, things can only get better.”  Write a memoir post – first-person and true – inspired by that statement.  Word limit is 300.

What have I done?  I’ve let someone else in, and now he’s turned my world upside down, making me giddy and smile and sigh like a lunatic.   He was like a madness to your calm, a variability to your symmetry.  He’s taken claim on my defenseless heart, holding it captive, making his presence known.

I still remembered the last time you held my heart in your hands.  Always with gentleness, always loving, always trusting.  Your eyes sang their praises whenever you looked at me, believing in me more than I’ve ever believed in myself.  I felt content, treasured, and safe.  Feelings that were now slipping through my hands, even though I tried to hold on to them, hoping they would forever be clenched in my fists.

Even now, I still reached for you in the darkness of the night.  I missed your familiar scent, faithful smile, the warmth feel of your body against mine.  When I heard his voice calling me--a new term of endearment foreign to my ear--I ached for that other voice.  Yours.

He brought with him looming uncertainties.  I sensed that he would be the death of me, yet I could not resist.  I was now and forever would be his.  You had always been my safe harbor, only this time I could not--would not--find my way back to you.  While my heart still throbbed and longed for you, I knew I had to let you go.

I wished I could have both of you in my heart--the best of both worlds.   I should have known better than to let him in.  But I could not undo what I had done.  I needed him as much as I needed air to breathe.

I could not live without him.   And for that I had to live without you.