We learn from the past. I can�t explain how I knew things weren�t over with my Deceiver when every sign pointed to look ahead and keep moving forward. I kept looking back, waiting for things to happen the way my heart knew they would, but even so, my hope was waning. Just as I began to look forward, he came back into my life and I was right. Things were not over. I couldn�t move on without final closure. This became clear, so fate brought him back to me for a short time before he left once again and I turned the page in my life.

Sadness makes sense to me. It does... Something bad happens, I react. I know why, how, to what degree and when I�ll be over it. But happiness? When I�m happy, I spend most of the time wondering how long it�ll last. Happiness is so scarce in my life. Kindness from a stranger, a touch from a lover... Then I meet the hunter. He brings me romance, understanding. He�s awakened my deep sense of quixotic love. Almost two years ago I met a man who sparked my interest. He was perfect; started a fire in me that burned so bright. But he was the Deceiver and I was stupidly loyal. I�m still a stupid kid, you see, and this fire, in time, burned down. So fine was the ash left behind. For months it remained white as snow, a sweet contrast to the grey smoke rising from it�s core. The ash, some blowing away, some blanketing the solid ground upon which it lay. It�s cool to the touch now. Nothing is left to be seen but the ghost of what was. Still, hidden In the belly of this once great flame resides a single ember. Burning slow; waiting for the right spark to ignite it into life once more.
Who, I wonder, will be this spark?
Can this hunter build me a fire or will he smother what�s left?

I pick him apart; try to figure him out. I predict what he�s thinking, what he�s going to do. I form and rule out the possibilities trying to prepare myself for what outcome could come of this thing we have.

I walked you down the drive to your motorcycle. The fist day we spent together, you took me for a ride on it. Now here we are. Another night's end. Another goodbye.
You took my hands in yours, kissed them so delicately it could have been the breeze against my skin. And that look you get... I know that look so well now. I know your thoughts. I know them because they reflect my own.
I mask my feelings. Unlike you, I try to hide away, scared of you. I keep my emotions hidden very deep in a dark place where no one can see them, no one can touch them. No one can break them. Least of all, those who have power over them. They are hidden from you, but as we are in this moment-- you standing so close-- I�m about to take my hands back, but your fingers find their way around my own and they�re steady. Not yet. I won�t let go yet. I want to remember every touch. You kiss my hands once more. You touch me as though I�m made of glass; like I�ll break if handled too roughly.

You stand up from your bike and look down at me. God, what is this? I�m letting myself feel the things I�ve kept hidden from myself and the world. I�m letting myself feel...
My heart�s been torn to pieces over time and you speak to me of healing. Since we met, you�ve swept me off my feet and so much is running though my head now. I�m not hiding any more.
The light in your eyes is dancing. You smile. �See? You get that look in your eyes too.� That look in my eyes; it's me. I�m not hiding from you now. That look is the seed of love... It may grow, it may die. Do with it what you will. My heart is free to break or bend, fly or lay dormant like it has.

Dear hunter, what comes next?
Everything is closer to the end.

11:50 a.m. - 2009-08-06