It was a moment that froze time, but in a way that is hard to explain. It was a moment that froze a million previous moments in one specific place and melded them together to a point where they were all the same. And then it shattered, broken by the remnants of a scream he never intended me to hear, and a confession that I had known was coming.

You see him and me, we were broken when we met. We were both torn apart by people that "loved" us. It was a bond that isn't easy to explain, both because it was so long ago, and also because I think that explaining it in words makes it look like something far worse than it was. We were those friends that healed each other. We picked each other back up and we healed, and we moved on. It's difficult to tell the tale. We had more in common than any other person I had ever met. We were in tune on a cosmic level that most don't believe in. We were meant for each other... for these few moments in time. Inside his room, and on that couch, a whole world exists... existed... that no one knew about, and that no one could understand. When I was there I was safe. I can't say that he felt the same, although I hope that he did. That place was our world. If we stayed there, together, forever, then nothing could ever hurt us again.

I loved him. I loved that him that hold me and made me feel like nothing could ever hurt me. But outside of that little world things were different, and eventually the better we felt, we ventured out of that room. We went back out into the world, and it was amazing. It was amazing to feel again.

But the reality of it was that the more we wanted the world, the less we ventured into our own. Or the longer we let ourselves get swallowed by this false sense of security, the lonelier the real world felt. This relationship did not exist outside of the boundaries of that world. I wish I could tell you why. I wish I knew why. I wish I knew why those feelings that blossomed in that room in the dark, went dormant in the light. But I do not know.

My beliefs about love have changed as a result of this relationship. Before this I thought that love was neverending. I thought that if you loved someone you never stopped loving them. And that is probably still true. The meaning is different though. Our love exists within that room, and within the memories of that room, and will exist there forever. That broken girl and that broken boy that somehow unbroke each other will always exist there. And I will cherish what happened in those months that all we really had was each other. But I live in the real world, one that isn't safe or sheltered. I live in a world where I get hurt now.

And when I felt like I couldn't deal with that hurt anymore I returned to that place thinking that it would still be the same even though everything else was now different. I came back seeking that comfort that had existed for so long. But in my absence, it had changed, he had changed, we had changed. So I picked myself back up, and I healed myself this time, because I could.

What I didn't realize is that maybe he didn't think of us the same way. Maybe I took for granted the fact that we were so alike, that he had to feel the same way I did. I could go from loving him, to loving being around him without much chaos in my world. I could be his friend. But he never wanted to be mine.

I just wish that he could see what we really had. That we had a perfect life, in the confines of his room, but that that life did not translate to the real world. We had everything we needed in that room, but out in the real world we need more. And that in that room the world flies by without us. People grow up without us, and have real lives. People go to real jobs, and get married and have children. We are not that for each other. We are not the happily ever after. We are the once upon a time.

But unfortunately now we are the end. And I guess that makes sense on some cosmic level that no one else can understand. We were more for each other in those few months than most people are for each other in ten years. We were a rather concentrated relationship, and probably one of the best relationships I've ever had. He wanted to be more for me, but I wish he could just see that the reason I loved him was because he wasn't trying. I fell in love with a boy that was broken hoping to fix him. I loved him for his sadness, and for his failing confindence, and also for his broken heart. But then one day he healed. And even though he was still a great man, an amazing man, he was not the boy that I fell in love with. And so, I fell out of love.

We were meant for each other, for those few months, to learn that love did still exist. Maybe he'll hate me for finding out that I feel this way, that I loved him but left him. And maybe he'll still think that he wasn't enough, or maybe that he was too much. I think he was just enough. And ya maybe it's not the kind of love that lasts forever, but its still important, it's still an important kind of love. This is the kind of love that heals all wounds, and no other love will ever measure up in that regard.

That scream could have shook mountains, and maybe it did. Maybe that's what it took for me to see that we were not as similar as I had thought. Maybe that's what he needed to do to rip me out of the real world and back to that world that we had created together. I escaped it, but I'm not sure that he ever wanted to.

You'd think that after twenty four years I'd have learned how dishonest this world is. It's all fake. All a giant ruse to convince us that life is perfect, life is beautiful, life is... easy. People don't say what they mean any more than they do what they say. Life is not perfect. Life is not beautiful. And life is definitely not easy. Still I have this illogical desire to believe all of the lies that surround me. I want to believe that life can be perfect, that life can be beautiful and that life can be easy. If I believe it, maybe I can make it come true.

But with these kind of ideas life is an utter disappointment. Nothing is ever enough. That movie that you saw last night wasn't funny enough, or scary enough, or maybe didn't have enough action.