Toffee Love 3 (conclusion)

all that ever was, or ever could be, was here right now.

here.

i tried to pretend it wasn't happening, as if pretence could ward off the inevitable in the same way that a crucifix or a garland of garlic could ward off a vampire, but we both knew that what was happening was as much a ritual of fate as was the symmetry of the hour that wove the thread of minutes about us like a daisy chain.

we held fast to the myth of the moment and clung to it in silent desperation in a way that, with the gift of hindsight, was as funny as it was tragic.

one love, one life, when it's one need in the night

tragic like a pantomime horse or a clown with a painted smile and wounded, weeping eyes.

painful.
brutal.

honest?

sometimes though honesty is no substitute for self centred self deception but even so, we couldn't fail to realise the fundamental facts.

this was all there ever was.

and this was all there would ever be.

you see, love isn't just the falling in. that bit is easy. it is the falling out and then climbing back up that fucking big hole that really counts. climbing back up and out and reaffirming what real love is all about.

for a moment, a fraction of a time, i forgot. i saw my own hurt rise up like a hillside and i cowered down in front of such an obstacle. i cowered down and saw toffee love. sticky and sweet and available. but real love kicks ass. and i do love. i always have loved and always will love.

and the one love remains.

the pain that was then has passed and is nothing now but distant forgetfulness and toffee love is still a sweet taste.

but that is all it is.

and the one love remains.

one love, one life.