Somewhere deep inside my head there's an animal constantly tormenting me to come to grips with my own eventual demise, 'death'. I'm absolutely sure of it. I can tell, because I kept returning to the same scenes over and over again. A horse stood there, mourning where it lost its companion, a salmon swimming upstream to its birthplace in order to die, a dog sniffing around to where their owner used to be. What's in them is within me. Instinctively it was these scenes and the replaying of these events that lead up to this, my inability to accept loss. I've always had a mourning creature deep within me. However, was my obsession with death and loss just a metaphor for what I really craved? What if what I truly had craved was 'control'? Because now I wouldn't change a thing. I would do it all over again. Yes, I may have lost a piece of myself, but I found something that finally makes me whole.

 

It all had to do with her, and every painful detail about her. Maybe it was the first time I had met her, but I don't think so. We'd known each other for such a long time, since freshman year in high school, but I can't pinpoint where I started losing to her. In the years that we hung out together, the slow drip of discovering her spunk, her quirkiness and her growing kinkiness polished a smooth hole in my heart until it was hers. It's pointless to try and determine where it became irreversible, but I don't believe these things are ever reversible. I kept wondering when it was that I realized I wanted her and would do anything to get her to want me. If only I had known what that would entail.

 

If you want the truth, I'll admit it. I did know what that would entail. The wild side of me, that primal part of me which uses my intuition as a compass, it knew and it went and pointed me in that direction. I shouldn't complain, I'm here because it wanted me to be...and here's where it all began.......