About love and other demons

I loved you. As much as you'd love your arm or your family or the memories of childhood that I like to delight in from time to time. 

I loved you. As much as you love nights out spent with friends, drinking beer and staring at the moon or the time when I first realized I am no longer a child, but a woman, and the realization hit me with wonder.

I loved you. You were my anchor to reality, my reason to put a smile on my face when things were so very wrong, the tiny little hope for a future that never came.

I loved you. As much as I love myself, more than I love myself and more than I ever loved anything else in my life. Including my own life.

I loved you, but I no longer love you and finally I am free. And like a bird that was caged for far too long, I don't know what to do with these wings that rest upon my back in sweet surrender and vulnerability.

My soul will rise like a Phoenix from its ashes and grow strong. I have no love left, maybe just for myself. But it will rise and grow like the plants in the desert, blooming with life under the harshest conditions in the most non fertile soil.

And when a new love will arise, I will love him with all of my being, my wings will hug him and I will finally find my home. My place where I belong, my lucky star. My everything. And I will give myself so completely that there'll be no way to tell where I begin and he ends because we'll be so fused together, like a child with two  souls, keeping each other warm to eternity and back.