The Romantic hadn’t been able to sleep for days. Existing on a diet of brie, baguettes and Moscato Spumante she yo-yo’d between happiness, despair, being fulfilled one moment and un the next.
The Philosopher had nearly driven her out of her mind. Having lived in a world of quiet containment for years she was unaccustomed and unable to deal with the bombardment of feelings.
She wanted off the roller coaster.
The Romantic forgot how to deal with the constant up and down, she wasn’t use to the loss of control associated with love. Now that she was right at the edge she saw how scary it really was, it was absolutely nothing like the stories.
She stood over the precipice staring down into the abyss. (That was in the stories.) Could she jump? Abandon all control over in the free fall with only the rumour of a safe landing to comfort her?
The Romantic had always been full of bravado.
Bring on Love! she would cry. Do your worst! Heartbreak is a part of life but it’s worth it. I want nothing else than to be smashed to bits by Love.
She would preach:
Yes, Love can destroy you but it is exhilarating to feel all of the emotions it awakens in you. It’s scary to give your all to someone but you must do so fearlessly and the rewards are ample. You must not be afraid.
The vertigo was getting to be too much, she crouched put her head between her knees.
The Romantic was a coward. She couldn’t do this anymore, she was woefully incapable. She wanted her control back, she wanted to be sure of everything in her life again.
She figured the only way to do that was to establish control in her relationship with the Philosopher. And the only way to do that was to destroy it. The Romantic couldn’t (wouldn’t) wait around for him to end it on his terms. At least the destruction would be by her hands.
The Romantic could understand why the Philosopher would stay away if she burnt his novel. She could understand why he did not love her if she just mocked him or started arguments with him all the time.
Because she’d been kind, she’d been patient, and understanding and hopeful… and still he would not care.
Yes, that was all the Romantic really wanted: to understand her life, feelings, and motivations again. To have all of them entangled up in her without even the possibility of a taint from him.
She took a step back and just before she could turn, that bitch Hope pushed her over.