We danced our way through the night, and all was well. You were mine, and I was yours … or so I thought. He was a tramp, and I had a life. Two different worlds collided on such a routine night. What might have been your stroll was my nightmare. He and I fought and fought; it felt like a harmony so cruel and so tender had been left on repeat to break my soul down. Day after day, we destroyed each other till there was nothing.

You stayed in, and I went out, meeting new men each night and sneaking about when you weren’t home. You didn’t deserve this. It was a river of emotions. Each night I spent away, the further I drifted from your hellish embrace. I loved that you loved me, but the thought of loving you was otherworldly at this point. Why hadn’t you just left? I couldn’t bear the thought that you were still attached to me. Not after what I had done.

The feelings we left amidst and unjudged were pure, much like we were when we started out. I met him the night we fought and broke it off for good. We clicked in an instant, and I fell deep into a trance. I felt like we never happened, and I had known this new lover for years on end. The night I came home to pick up my things, you knew. And to my surprise, you moved on just as fast. The woman was laid out on what used to be our couch, now hers.

She looked to him then to me in confusion. “Who the hell are you?” she said as I moved towards my deranged lover.

I stood below him and looked him in the eyes. “You’re a monster.”

His expression was an infuriating mess. “You did this to us. You’re the reason we tore ourselves apart.”

“I’m only trying to forget you.”

When I looked up to him once more I realized what I had done. I hadn’t known it much before, but I was the goddess of destruction. Each lie I created, every word I had spoken, had cracked away at his sanity. Standing before me was a human being much less on the verge of insanity. He was sick. I had infected him, and he spread it on. Our love was sick, and now it had spread. The woman who lay on the couch was now standing beside her trouble, the man holding her heart together. I stepped back and grabbed the few things I had left in the living room and set down a small envelope with a waxy seal on the counter.

“What is that?” The man called.

“An apology.”

He walked to the counter and grabbed the envelope off the counter and as I walked out I let out a slight chuckle.

One. Two. Three. Boom. The house was set ablaze and the sound of car alarms went off near and far. I had done what was best for us. I got rid of the sickness, and now it won’t spread further than the tips of my fingers. As I walked away and on with my business, my lover appeared from the shadowy depths of the alleyways lurking. I looked him up and down endlessly, as the man I saw that dreadful night was no longer who I had imagined. Intoxication and the need to forget the man I truly loved had thrown me out to sea. His eyes were heavy, and the wrinkles under his eyes told stories. I didn’t know this man, but I signed my life away to him.