My Own Apocalypse.

So, I have discovered a new perspective. That I, Tara, the Ice Queen, actually can smile. Terrifying notion, isn't it? I forgot what it was like to hear the sound of my own laughter. It's been nice to have it fill the air the last couple of days. Apparently I do have a heart, even if it's been ripped out. It seems it can grow back. I guess I do have a soul, after all.Surprises me, even. I would have to say that Love seems to be my downfall. On the rare occasion that I do feel it, it seems to consume me completely, and tends to render my judgment blind. But isn't that the catch, they say? "Love is blind." True story. How do you even know when you love someone? What are the tell tale signs? Are there even any? Is it surprise candlelit dinners, rose-scented bubblebaths, or multiple kisses on the forehead? Is it constantly being held, even when you quick and squirm, get pissed, and frustrated because all you crave is those few precious hours of sleep? Is it your significant other clamping his arm over your writhing body, always around the waste, and removing it only when he's assured you've tired yourself out and curl up into his neck. Is it his engulfing warmth that silences and calms you? Maybe.

Maybe it was his gentle touch that soothed me throughout the dark hours of the night. Maybe it was the way his entire body encased mine, like an armored suit of flesh and blood. Maybe he was the way his lips caressed mine, fully, completely, over and over again. Lost in the nights of heated passion, claiming me as his own. Or softly, tenderly, pecks against the moist pink canvases. Maybe I was lost in abandon and lust. But when his eyes, his deep brown eyes, burned into my own blue ones, I knew. He searched me completely, soundlessly, casting his silent spell. I knew my eyes told him much. They usually masked so much, but somehow he managed to break through. I never even bothered to raise the defenses. I didn't think I wanted too.

I'd defined myself by "an us" for so long, I'd forgotten what my own separate happiness was. I was my own person, yet a different one connected to him. With him, was bliss. Without him was lost. Or was it? There was once a time when we couldn't bare to be away from each other. It was like we could never get enough. Everyday, we smiled at the thought of being able to wake up next to each other. The time apart was full of thoughts of one another, and a longing, for just a glimpse of, a word from, or a kiss for each other. It was the newlywed stage, I suppose, of the relationship. When each moment mattered more than the next. Each day waking up was full of excitement. It was like a dream, too good to be true. I never wanted to wake up.