Marie reached out to me today after 2 years, to give me the closure I never got. We talked for a while about our lost baby - lost love. There comes a time in a man's life when you have to look at yourself in the mirror & say, "I need help". I'll get help. I will be a better man.

This is no way for a man to live. You don't go wrecking people who care for you. She was a good woman, who tried her best to help me. I told her I never want her to feel like she was inadequate. I was the problem - still are. I will correct that. I will get help.
As for our little cozy love, I have not known better, and doubt I will. If soulmates ever lived, Marie & I were at the appex. I enjoyed the experience. I never had to work hard at the connection. Should I die today, I am honestly glad I have known a woman's love so soft.
You don't get over it. I have since stopped trying. You learn to live with it, as one of those little secrets that make you smile when life has you by the chokehold: The little pocket in your memory that'll never soil - enduring through seasons. I'll cherish those little moments.
Many lovers will come. Some better than Marie. I have no doubt. They'll be just as genial; possibly, more loving. And I will love them. I will give them my best, and a warm home for our children. But Marie I will never exorcise. She is the abiding truth in my life.
Very few men can claim to have been loved for who they are. Here, I stand counted. I was loved in famine and in harvest; in the storms & quicksands. To be naked, with not a fabric on you, & be wrapped in the warmth of a woman's passion is every man's silent prayer. I am lucky.
So today, I finally let this woman of my bosom go. I shall look not back in regret, but appreciation. For the little whispers by the railway station. And the soft rhythm of our breaths in each other's arms - so effortless. It was a beautiful journey: a journey I wish on every man
I will find help. I admit I have inadequacies. I admit that I close too tight. I admit that I am afraid. I admit that it comes from a place of selfishness - & emptiness. I admit I could do better. I admit it all: I will get help. I will be a better man. This cycle ends with me.
Maybe, someday I'll write the world this rare love story we stumbled upon on a dusty village road: When I have healed, & my heart isn't as heavy. Maybe, it'll bring joy to a few forlorn, & the cynical be tempted into belief. It was beautiful.

For Marie, a thousand times over.

More from Life

It doesn't happen because you want it to happen.

It doesn't happen because you made it happen.

It happens because you allow it to happen.

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