The Last Message

Lately, he's been losing his temper over every little thing. I know this is the beginning of the end.

We loved each other. Loved each other to the point of oblivion, unforgettably. I would sleep and hear his declarations of love. He always did it when he thought I couldn't hear. It was easier for him that way, simpler to fight with himself. He would whisper tender words into my ear when I seemed to be asleep. I heard them. I always heard his breathing through my sleep. I knew when he was talking in his sleep and when in reality, but not in wakefulness. I loved him. But I was running again in my own vicious circle.

How much longer can this go on? I've been running in it for a hundred years. It's time to break it, time! Why can't I? Because I find those who keep me there

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Farewell Letter

"I know Scorpios are prone to self-flagellation. But your latest outburst was magnificent!

Once again, you cruelly but very clearly showed me that I'm running in my own vicious circle again. And it's long past time to break it! Time to become a consumer, not a patron. The latter is not my path. Yet I run and run along it, powerless to break free.

Thank you for the lesson, I needed it. And my deepest bow to you. You did it beautifully, harshly, and in a manly way. Few are capable of that.

I will have to come to you one more time. First, to return the book, but not before I finish reading it. And to gather my few belongings. After all, they are dear to me because they are mine.

You can put my toothbrush in the drawer with my makeup bag.

I love you, regardless of your feelings. One can love for different reasons. Love for a teacher is a special love, unrelated to the love between a man and a woman who simply want to be together.

I've already told you twice that I don't see myself by your side. You whispered words of love to me when you thought I was asleep. That's the only way you can open up about your feelings. Your right. I never laid claim to anything, I didn't solve my problems at your expense, I was simply there."

You grew bored of it, you doubted, you showed me my place. My deepest bow. You have done more for me than you realize yourself.

Master! Once again—my deepest bow, gratitude, and wishes for happiness.

We'll see each other again. The book! And my things."

He yanked me out like a fish onto ice. Not onto land... onto ice. It burned, enveloped, accepted me. There's not enough air, yet breathing became easier.

We were together for a year. A wonderful, joyful, intoxicating year.

When for the first time, on the wane of emotions and desires, he asked: "Will you marry me?"

I said: "Yes!"

And then I thought about it and a week later corrected myself—no.

And then again... On the wane, on emotions, quietly in my ear: "Marry me,"—you thought I was already asleep.

Yes, curled up next to you like a little girl, I was screaming inside: "Yes, yes, yes!" In the morning, I stretched and asked: "Did you really ask me to marry you, or did I dream it?"

Funny, but you answered: "Yes!"

"Aren't you afraid that the third time I'll answer—YES!"

You know I won't be by your side when it's needed. You know I want to help, but it's beyond my power. Want to destroy yourself? Go ahead. But without me. I love you, and you know it, but I won't fight for you anymore.

Your book and my things are in your house.

Nothing else connects us now.

Love comes in many forms!

Diana Tim Taris