1447 days ago, I almost left him forever. It was late October. The air tasted of Winter, but it was Autumn in so many ways; with sweaters, torn stockings and cold, cold hands. I pressed into him for warmth, for pleasure- any excuse to be near him. And it was very late one night when I made my decision- I would leave him.

I was too much in love- I was drowning in it. And this wasn't part of the deal, the unspoken agreement of our liaisons. And he would know if I kept this up. Eventually the mask would crumble off, and I would look at him just a little longer than I should, and then, then he would know. And he was never supposed to know, never allowed to know. It was the only power I had, the only thing that was mine, all mine. This love was sacred, too sacred to share, with anyone. So I decided to leave him.

I crept downstairs with a note; a single torn out page, with 5 verses- a collage of other people's words, none of them mine. I wanted him to know that it was all some huge mistake, that it was never supposed to be this way, that, in some other universe, it could've worked, that he might've loved me the way I had always loved him.

But his big, beautiful eyes made it all impossible. And as I ran out, up the stairs, away from him, I knew I'd be back. And he called me the next day, and we both pretended that nothing had happened. And I continued to see him. We made love in the early afternoons when the apartment was quiet. We wrapped ourselves in songs.

"Will you stand above me?
Look my way, never love me
Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling
Down, down, down"

"I never wanted another
Come over to me and discover
How I want to be near you
And you need to be far away"

As the days pressed on and folded in on themselves, I tried to slip away, to unloose myself. And I would plan my glorious escape and wonder if years later, he would still think of me. Would he even remember me?

And I danced away from him, pretending I was interested in others, something both of us were free to do, but didn't. I wanted to know if he could or would feel my pain, if he understood what was happening between us, still wondering if it was all just in my mind.

But when I tried to leave, when I told him I was going home with another, I saw it happen. I left quickly and hid from him, as he changed into some force of nature. His sex, his violence- it all came through, and I knew it then. I knew the truth. I knew he felt it too.