Loving someone, knowing down to the day when you will leave them. (personal)
Recently I've found myself asking only one question, How can I love her so much, knowing that it will end soon and I know exactly when?
So, here is the story.
It would be probably around 9 or so years ago, I was quite young, I mean very young, primary school. There was this girl, something about her quirky attidute and differences from everyone else I knew drew me to her. Though I was far too young to understand any form of love except that for family, I didn't know how to place it in my mind. Ofcourse, as the years progressed it all started piecing together, I loved her. Well, 12 year old me thought so, though I was too afraid to ever tell her, so she just remained that person that knew me by name.
She moved towns, and I moved on, but something somewhat expectable happened, thanks to the miracles of facebook, mutual friends and the Add Friend button, we started talking again... From opposite sides of the country, being Australia, her in Perth, myself in New South Wales. We remained reasonably good friends, if not at times, best friends, over the years. I introduced her to Brand New and Kasabian, as she introduced me to many of her loves, Brand New now being one of her greatest. I fell for her, I really did, and still do love her, not that first-love or I-don't-understand-love kind. Everything about her, is everything I love in a person. She's so far different from anyone I've met, through all the years, she loved me once during this time, though I spoiled that and in the end, we stopped talking.
Okay, we're getting closer now.
January 28th 2012, I move to Western Australia, only an hour and a half from Perth. We hadn't been talking, until I moved, then we were talking daily, all over again. It was good, really good. She came around, we kissed, I slept with her in my arms, I still loved her, but at this stage, she couldn't and wouldn't love me. We saw eachother every now and then, and after awhile, I let it slip.
This ruined everything, we spent weeks on and off talking, days of myself laying in bed wanting to just call her mine... I achieved it, not how I thought I would, but I did. She confessed her love for me, that she'd denied me and had denied herself. It WAS there. She asked me out, because she wanted it as much as myself, but there was a problem, by now my plans had been set, come October, I move to Tasmania with my best friend. The plans had been there for a good couple of months. They weren't going to change, we both knew it, but we took the step regardless.
So here we are, after a month or two of being together, neither of us care to count, nights spent together listening to Brand New, me being her art canvas, just, being the way we had wanted to be for a very long time. I bought her a $250 Brand New vinyl, just to see a smile. We talk all day, everyday even though we never have anything to tell eachother, she loves me, maybe even more than I love her, though at first I'd deem that impossible.
But now, everytime we talk and conversation falls on the dreaded October plans, we both end up in silence, in pain, wishing we could just, stay like this forever.
So, why did I do it, why did we do it? I love her like I'll never love another, I know this because she's so unlike any other, but in four months, I leave her. In four months, my definition of perfect is left on the other side of the country, where I want to be.
I'm happy just to have this time with her. I just can't grip that it all comes to an end so soon.