It has occurred to me that what is happening to me right now is my punishment for a crime I committed years ago. A crime against love. Actually, I think everything that has happened to me since I ended my first marriage has been punishment. I think I am destined to die, old, and alone, with my cat. I think I’m being punished for walking away from my first marriage, my first love. And for what reason? Logistics! Geography. Oh sure, it wasn’t all a bed of roses. But still, when you love someone, I mean really love someone, aren’t you supposed to be willing to follow that person to the end of the world, and back again. I wasn’t willing to do that. I was selfish. I was very selfish. And since walking away from that I have paid the price. The two relationships that followed were nothing short of awful. And I deserved every minute. Love is to be cherished, honored, savored. Not discarded like garbage. I didn’t feel love with anyone after my first marriage. I felt a desperate need to belong, to be needed, to be useful. My first marriage was full of love. I have the letters to prove it. Oh, the love letters. The words of passion that were exchanged. The tears cried. The pain felt when we were parted. That is love. Feelings not felt for some time, now resurfaced, and with a vengeance. Yet, unrequited. All, part of the ongoing punishment. I deserve it. That’s why I seek out those not capable of loving me in return. It is, after all, a game. Which I fully intend to lose. Love. Lost. Found again. And lost. Crime. And punishment.
– J. Ela