The setting was ironically pretty perfect; I’m not going to lie. The sand between my toes was no longer an annoyance glued to my sweat but instead tiny granular micro-cushions providing me with unparalleled comfort given the situation. The moon bounced off the crystalline water just right, creating an effect no fresh diamond ever could. It was the greatest beauty the world could replicate, only second to the girl stood before me. The silver shimmers bounced side-to-side upon her bitter-cold cheeks, radiating her smirk with such sublime subtleness. I could but smile at her, yet she smiled through me. I was nothing but a glass pane beaming the world behind me, and she was nothing but looking through me.
Our love was a fallacy, a façade cruelly concocted by her devious mind. I was a placeholder, the missing jigsaw piece for her fulfilment. I was temporary. Expendable. She was not.
She was life summarised in a physical body. She was the gradient of emotions a man can feel; for she was the beaming pride of the morning sun kisses and she was the eye of a devastating storm. She was the force that tore me apart from the inside out, yet still beckoned a smile that screamed wholesome innocence. She was the serpentine creature fuelling me with lustful sin, wrath, pride and envy, yet she was an angel. She was nature and I a mere wandering pollen wholly vulnerable to her power.
Her eyes looked through me, as though I was nothing. I was nothing. Not anymore. The world can be a cruel place when you learn of its selfishness. It can be a lonely place in the most crowded of places and the cruellest creation in the nicest of times.
If God made man in his image, Hell made her.
– Benjamin John Wareing