Love That Kills Never Dies

Submitted into Contest #194 in response to: Write a story inspired by the phrase “Back to square one.”... view prompt

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Creative Nonfiction Drama Romance

The night was expanding its wings over the city with its velvety darkness. The kind that slows down a man's heart rhythm, slowly puts her hands around a man's neck, and holds on him until night is over. The night was a sweet, warm black that hugged him no matter what, and within its safety he could finally breathe. His heart was heavy with the weight of love, and as she kissed his neck and whispered his name, every fiber of his being was consumed by the intensity of the moment. He longed for it to last, but the night was merciless, and time slipped away too quickly. Such a shame the whisper wasn’t long enough, the cuddle not tight enough. Such a shame the night was too dark and swallowed every chance of someone’s star brightening it up.

As he lay there, memories of her flooded his mind, filling him with a longing so deep that it seemed to seep into his very soul. The gentle touch of her skin, the warmth of her embrace, and the way she called out his name echoed through his mind like a haunting melody. In her arms, he had found a sanctuary, a place where all his worries and fears could be cast aside. Although she was gone and the coldness of the night seeped into his bones, as if his heart were a wide open door to the frigid wind, slamming shut just to reopen. He felt his drowning eyes and simply chose to listen to her whisper instead. He did not whisper back. 

But now, as this night grew longer, he found himself alone once more, the emptiness of his bed a constant reminder of what he had lost. His heart ached with a deep sense of longing, as if a part of him had been torn away. He held onto her pillow, searching for any trace of her scent, but it had already begun to fade, carried away by the cruel winds of the night.

Yet still, he clung to the hope that one day they would be together again, that the night would once more wrap them in its warm embrace. For she was his ecstasy, his natural drug. The night may be dark and endless, but as long as he had her, he knew that he could find his way through it. As he felt the nausea rise within him, he hastily grabbed his coat and left the room. The sudden rush of cool air hit him as he opened the door, and an unfamiliar light flooded the once-dark room.

As he walked into the darkness of the night, the street seemed to take on a new life of its own. The streetlights flickered on and off, casting an eerie glow on the otherwise pitch-black surroundings. The empty street seemed to stretch out for miles in front of him, with shadows creeping up from the sides like silent observers. The contrast between the dimly lit street and the enveloping darkness gave him ghost-like features, as if he was a specter wandering through a world of the living.

The sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty street, creating an unsettling rhythm that seemed to punctuate the stillness of the night. His coat rustled in the wind, flapping like wings on his back as he walked through the abandoned street. The buildings around him loomed high, casting deep shadows that seemed to swallow up any light that dared to stray too close.

Despite the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the stark beauty of the night. The way the streetlights illuminated the darkness, and the way the shadows danced across the pavement, gave the world an otherworldly feel that was both unsettling and captivating at the same time. Yet again, his thoughts were drawn to her absence. Once, he ran through fire for her, his love burning bright as the flames that licked at his feet. But now, all that remained was the ashen memory of what they once had. The wind carried the debris of their love away, scattering it like a macabre confetti. Each heartbeat, more of it flew away, and he could only watch in silent agony as the cinders of their once beautiful love scattered into nothingness. His tears were proof that their love was gone, destroyed by the fire of their own passions. 

The night had grown even darker, the streetlights flickering out one by one until he was left standing in complete darkness. He couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything, and for a moment, he thought he had died and gone to hell. But then he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, and he knew that he was not alone. He turned around, but there was no one there. Only the darkness, the cold, and the feeling of dread that seemed to be suffocating him. He tried to run, but his legs wouldn't move. He was trapped, a prisoner of the night, and there was no escape. The night seemed to be mocking him, reminding him of all that he had lost. He tried to shake off the feeling of hopelessness, but it clung to him like a heavy shroud, suffocating him with its weight.

He stopped yet again at the end of the street, staring out at the vast emptiness that lay ahead of him. There was no direction, no destination, no purpose. He was lost, adrift in a sea of darkness without her compass to guide him. It was as if the universe had conspired against him, leaving him stranded in a desolate world with nothing but his shattered dreams, while she was far away passing time in someone else’s arms. 

But in the depths of his despair, he found himself almost instinctively walking towards the bench where they had first met, memories of their time together came rushing back. He remembered how they used to sit here for hours, talking and laughing as if nothing else in the world mattered. But now, the bench seemed to be a desolate place, a graveyard of their love that had died not long ago.

The paint on the bench was peeling, and the wood was rotting away, a reflection of the decay that had taken hold of their lives. The once vibrant colors had faded into a dull, lifeless shade, much like the spark that had once existed between them.

He sat down on the bench, feeling the cold metal dig into his skin. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the decaying wood, feeling as though he had been transported back to a time when they were still together.

But the nostalgia was fleeting, and he was soon reminded of the reality of their situation. They had parted ways on bad terms, their love turned bitter and sour like a poison that had seeped into their veins.

As he sat there, the darkness of the night seemed to encroach upon him, engulfing him in a blanket of shadows. The silence of the night was deafening, broken only by the sound of his own ragged breaths. The bench was now a symbol of their broken love, a reminder of the pain and heartache that seemed to have consumed him more than it had her.

He knew that he could not go back to the way things were, that their love was forever lost in the darkness of the night. As he got up from the bench, he felt a sense of finality wash over him, as if he had finally accepted the reality of their situation.

He walked away from the bench, leaving behind the remnants of their love to decay and crumble away. The night was dark, but he knew that he had to keep moving forward, back to square one, in the hopes of finding a new love that might fade or wither away on a cold night such as this one but never truly die. 

April 18, 2023 21:48

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