It’s hard to believe that it’s been nearly four years since we last spoke.
On our good days, The Muse was not only part of my life, but also the center of the streams of my thought about who I was. She was the constant center, the North Star, and my lighthouse.
On our bad days, she was the Unstoppable Force against my Immovable Object. We were elements that smashed against each other, chipping away at the pieces of our souls, and shattering the worlds around each other.
We were love, and hate, and anger, and fear, and hopelessness, and happiness.
We were a violent and slow erosion.
Then, one day, we were simply not. As sure as she had appeared in my life in 1992, she was gone in 2009.
As we got healthy, we realized the hurts we had leveled against each other, the wrongs we had committed in the name of our relationship, and the remains of our tattered core were our White Whale. Whatever had once been had long again been damaged beyond repair.
With one, short conversation, our life together came to a close. It was a final, dry goodbye devoid of the pain and love that marked our time in orbit.