for esme, with love and squalor

never saw you with your hair down. loved you anyway.

some love just will never be over.

no matter how long ago, no matter how far away. no matter how sad. the barbed hook of some love will remain in my intestines forever. will pull, will rip, will sever. will torture me with the feeling of loss and fulfillment, of unlimited happiness, sadness, tragedy. it does today, it has done so every single day since when we first met.

some love will haunt me for the rest of my life – and makes me already wish that there won’t be as much rest of my life as it might be.

some love hurts more than what is healthy. it won’t kill though, but only because I am already dead without the source of this love. and without it I am, and will be, for all I can tell from here. and I can’t even say that I didn’t know it from the very beginning. well, I knew it to be hopeless. but I let myself be carried away by some love that was stronger than I was then, and stronger than I will ever be.

this is my story. a story about some love that feels like it just will never be over.