Katherine Owen

There are all kinds of ways for a relationship to be tested, even broken, some, irrevocably; it__ the endings we__e unprepared for.

Yet she lays out this family plan the way you__ say, __fter yoga, I__l go to Lia__ for the mani-special and then wax on about hairstyles and hemlines until dinner.__f I were gifted at making long-term plans, which by now we all know I__ not, and if I was at all hopeful, which we all know that I can never be, although it crosses my mind that it__ entirely possible these are all just huge, f*&king, temporary setbacks and nothing more, even though it__ been going on for over three years now, since Holly died, and I met Lincoln Presley. Events that could be construed as somehow inevitably related. Yes, perhaps there__ an expiration date on the said pursuit of unhappiness. Perhaps, things will eventually go my way after I actually discover what that way is supposed to be.

You know what they say about air and water when it comes to fire, don__ you?_ she

Finally, I formulate and say a little prayer to God, and since we haven__ officially spoken since my mom and Elliott died that takes up quite a bit of my time. The rest of it I spend on trying to determine what I think love really is and what I actually feel for Tally Landon at this point. Upon deep reflection, I realize that I must be at the edge of life__ abyss. This is me. All there is left of me; and yet, I__ looking over and contemplating its meaning on whether to jump or stay. I__ not sure this feeling for Tally Landon is made up of love any more than it is of hate. This must be a kind of purgatory__he in-between place__ecause these pervasive feelings of rage and passion for Tally are equalized and actually co-mingle together__ike fire and water__ach ready to extinguish the other. I__e come to accept the truth. There may be nothing left for us. It could go either way.

The ending is coming. I can feel it. I don__ know if I can take it this time. But then again, I say that every time and yet, every time I take it. And, I come back to her again for more. I will take whatever time I can get with her. I will do that for a lifetime. I will. I know that much about myself. She is my water. I can never get enough of her, and it appears that I will die trying to love her, to keep her, to hold her with me, even though our time together seems to evaporate so swiftly. It slips through our fingers so damn fast that we don__ even have time to savor it when we__e together.

I stand still for a long time, holding the note, and let it all sink in. Her leaving is almost palpable like a gale-force wind that__ rolled into my life in the span of a single evening and left behind all this incalculable destruction, both inside and out. Yes, the tempest has passed, but the air around me feels different. I can hardly breathe. Nothing is the same without her. As the lone survivor of her particular storm, I begin to wonder just exactly what I__ supposed to do now.

Here__ the truth: I am the female version of a heartbreaker. The one that everyone says is too dedicated to ballet, too self-involved to ever care about anyone else besides herself. I__ the rebel. The bad twin. I am Tally__he loner, the party of one. The love and leave __m prototype. Heartless. That is me. I have no time for romance, flowers, or relationships. I like one-night stands with plenty of sex and no promises of a future. I like the lies I tell. I__ comfortable in telling them_most of the time. This is me.

Here__ what I know: death abducts the dying, but grief steals from those left behind.