Beause you’re addicted. Because you know exactly what Edward meant when he called Bella his own “personal brand of heroin” and you’re ashamed to admit you feel that way. Because you’re like a moth to the flame with this person, because you know you’ll get hurt in the end and yet. Because a part of you knows better and another part doesn’t want to; because you’re not ready to all-the-way know better. Because this is a suicide leap but the way they make you feel makes it somehow worth it.
Because they speak your language. Because they understand you even when they don’t. Because on some deep, intrinsic level you just get each other. Because sometimes it seems like they know you better than you know yourself. Because they’ve seen the worst of you and the best; because, regardless of how they hurt you, you still feel an inexplicable trust.
Because you’re afraid. You’re afraid you’ll never be loved like that again; you’re afraid no one else will be in tune with you, your moods, the essence of who you are in this necessary specific way. Because you’re afraid you don’t have the capacity to love anyone like that again; afraid all your love energy is spent, afraid you’re incapable of ever emotionally getting it up for anyone else. Because you’ve never been so vulnerable with anyone else and the thought of even trying makes you feel hopeless and tired.
Because you think this time will be different, think that with all the naiveté of someone proposing marriage to their drug addicted mate hoping that’s the move that will cure them. “This time will be different” — you hear people say that and you roll your eyes so loud you wake up the neighbors but you do exactly the same thing; the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Because you think you can make this work if you try a little harder, if you just push a little more.
Because you believe in it, against your better judgment. Because you think it’s worth it; because you don’t stop to consider the very real possibility that the negatives outweigh the positives. Because you think you owe each other, your history, something still; because you feel inherently bonded and you don’t want to break it. Because you leave logic out of it; because after all, the heart wants what the heart wants and what can you do about that.
Because you live in the past, because you remember who you were once, who they were, and what you had; remember this and want to rewind. Because you think it’s possible to somehow recreate an idealized past in an unsure future. Because you’ve been holding onto the possibility of becoming a whole again for months, for years, safe and protected by the idea that no matter what happens, you’re not alone because of that faint background possibility of Us.
Because you think they’ll change, you’ll change, the circumstances will change; things will somehow mysteriously get better. Because you think this time around you’ll appreciate each other because you know what it’s like to be without. Because you have kids together. Because you have a dog together. Because you have amazing memories together. Because you have an “amor vincit omnia” tattoo. Because Hollywood or literature or God made you believe that love is enough. Because you don’t want to think about the possibility of a world in which it isn’t.
C
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