He was a mirage, a beautifully crafted facade that promised the world yet delivered naught but pain. His words, sweet as honey, dripped with the venom of deceit. I know him, a facade, an unyielding, unwavering facade. But alas, love wants what it wants. His charm is all exterior, as his is want for me. But alas, the heart wants what it wants. He promises to give me the world, to make me his world and for what? Just so he can leave as quickly as he entered into my life and give it to another? He will sequester everything he knows just to let it go again for a new shiny toy. I know that now. I did not know that then, when I was falling in love.
Let me set a scene for you. A young girl wanting to be seen, like candy to a diabetic. Wanting to be loved, wanting that care that she only knew to give. Here comes a dashing young boy, a little taller with beautiful floppy curly hair. What was this girl to do? She did not understand the falsity of his claims, she spent her time in the fantasy land where the guy comes to sweep the girl off her feet, help her through her darkest times and it comes to an end with them in their sweet happily ever after. This story was not that. This is a twisted tale of love.
Her garden was not one of Edenic splendor but of twisted delights, where shadows masqueraded as light and the fruit of knowledge bore the bitter taste of sorrow. Here, she touched him, a being cloaked in allure, his presence a mirror reflecting her deepest desires and darkest fears. He was the serpent in her Eden, offering not fruit from a tree but promises as intangible as smoke.
She was Eve incarnate, wanting to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, caught in an eternal dance with temptation, her soul whispering secrets she dared not voice aloud. A tale as old as time, yet uniquely hers—the pursuit of something achingly beautiful but inherently doomed. She grasps the apple from the Tree, her understanding incomplete yet with a profound awareness that her actions will bring harm to both her and Adam. Eve’s motivation isn’t naivety but an undeniable yearning and the insatiable thirst for knowledge. Her path diverges from Eve’s, for I venture back to the well of forbidden pleasures, fully aware of the eventual fallout, yet I disregard the repercussions. Her reasoning doesn’t stem from ignorance; rather, it’s the exhilaration of the pursuit — that intoxicating rush — equating to a pact with the infernal. The chase, in its essence, becomes her Faustian bargain, pursued not out of innocence but for the thrill it provides, even when steeped in foreseen consequences.
The thrill of the chase became her elixir, the highs and lows merging into a symphony of ecstasy and agony. Each encounter was a step closer to the abyss, yet she danced on the edge with reckless abandon. The chase was not just a path to him but a journey into the depths of her own soul, where light fought to emerge from the shadows. With eyes wide open to the impending storm, she embraced the tempest. Their hands met, fingers intertwining in a pact as ancient as the stars, a Faustian bargain sealed with a kiss of betrayal. She traded her innocence for the illusion of love, her laughter for whispers in the dark. The deal was struck—a heart given freely, yet bound in chains.
My offering, a vow to cherish him beyond the constraints of time. His reciprocation, tragically absent. The girl, thus forsaken, fades slowly into oblivion, her essence dwindling until she’s beyond the reach of love’s revival. The pact she struck whispered promises of infinite affection, yet, as ancient wisdom cautions — one must never make a deal with the devil. Such contracts are built on folly, a truth I overlooked, blinded by youthful ardor at seventeen. Morality abandoned, she would traverse any boundary for the sweet toxin of pleasure gleaned from another’s suffering—a sacrilegious delight.
Her heart, undeterred by reason or consequence, pledges an eternal allegiance to him, even as it marches toward its own demise. Exhausted by the torment of uncertainty, she stands willing to forge a sinister alliance to escape the purgatory of the unknown. A life shrouded in ambiguity is a life she refuses to endure. Summoning the darkness, she declares, “I am Eve, and I beseech surrender,” ready to embrace the void for a taste of forbidden knowledge.