she

The winter weather (as is the usual for this state) had already begun to run off with the fleeting tones of autumn, and I woke up shivering from the cold.  The rain continued to fall, more of a reminder of the season than the downpour of the past days.  Ash-colored clouds draped me in a curtain of mist and seemed to darken the mood of everyone on campus, who walked in procession like Benedectine monks with their heads bowed under umbrellas.

My thoughts as of late had drifted off to she, perhaps because of the pangs of loneliness newly creeping down my spine.  She, with whom I shared a four-week stand that burned white hot and left me reeling with passion.  Our meeting was by chance and solely based on attraction - what other way is there in a place where a headshot is all one has to judge of someone?  Two creatures of impulse and desire, we pressed our bare skin together like flint upon steel, dangerously close to immolating ourselves with a cascade of sparks.  Such things are not meant to last.  They burn swiftly and brightly enough to blind - robbing one of his sight and leaving only the phantasmal afterimage behind.

Any rational person would have known in their heart that such a relationship was not meant to last.  We pressed our lips together for the very first time - and mere moments later, were bare of clothing and writhing with ecstasy.  In the dark of night in that sweltering apartment, we got to know each other as she pressed her nails into my skin.  It should have been a one night stand; a brief, passionate affair.

The intensity confounded me and beguiled me into believing that it could last.  What started out as night after night of unfettered passion slowly dwindled, tapering off and withering like young pines in a wildfire.  And with the breeze, the fire spreads to other parts of the forest; the winds carried her away from me and left me blackened and burnt.

For days, I could barely lift my head such was my grief.  I bore burns scars in the shape of her lips across my skin like a brother to Abel.  The blame lay squarely upon my shoulders - she had the cognizance to realize that our relations were fleeting and ephemeral.  Had I had the same foresight, had I been more mature, I would not have suffered so.

I lifted my head and let the mist condense upon my furrowed brow.  I had sworn over and over to never allow myself to forget the nature of such relationships.  Knowing myself to be one who thrives on close, passionate bonds, it was evident that such a vow would be difficult to uphold.  Yet, I swelled with hope: just as the first hints of new life begin to emerge from the blackened soil of a wildfire, I felt my heart beginning the cycle of regrowth anew.