In a Flash
I never had much luck in love. Most relationships barely got started before they were over. I accepted this as my destiny and made a life without romance. And then, when I was in my late 40’s, I met my soulmate. We were quickly inseparable. We’d found each other and we weren’t letting go. Finally, I understood viscerally what poets and writers and lyricists wrote about.
It felt miraculous. It felt destined. It felt absolutely right. At last, there was somebody who understood me; someone who wanted my happiness more than they wanted their own. I became a new human being. I blossomed. I felt things I’d never felt before. I saw other human beings through a different lens, viewed the world from a different perspective. I was joyful. I was happy.
And then, tragedy., insanity. A robbery. A shooting. Death. And suddenly, I was alone again, my happiness shattered. It had taken so long for us to find each other, and we were so uniquely suited. How could I hope to ever find that again? I could not return to my old life, being happily content without love. I missed it like a brutally sawn-off leg.
That phantom limb pained and grieved me to the end of my days.