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…I loved him.

He was my coal fire, my flame in the midst of winter. He was my world – my universe revolved around his smile. His eyes were my twin stars, my sun and moon, and my heart missed beats when he looked at me.

I loved him.

He was joie de vivre incarnate, with his melodious laughs, his musicality, his sense of humour.  He could make anything worth noticing, life was worth living, death seemed a dance.

I loved him. Loved him and hated him.

He was my funeral pyre. He tortured me, he teased me with his subtlety and sensuality, his glances full of longing and movements, so languid,  so full of desire.

I hated him – yes. I despised myself in his presence, I seemed to myself nothing more but a shadow – for he was life itself. He would freeze me with silence, only to burn me up with his passion.

But there were moments I could do nothing but love him – absolutely, unconditionally. Moments when he stroked my hair, while I was falling asleep on his chest, whispering my name:


Published by aneuringwynn

Tarot master, channeler, awenydd and writer

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