Each man kills the thing he loves

"And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!"

The surf loves and longs for the beach, you see, but tides dictate terms, so the waves leave kisses and intricate patterns on the sand they are being dragged away from, you said.

It just seems like a rare natural phenomenon, that double rainbow, but it is nature climate and weather signalling that we belong together, you said.

You gave me joy, you taught me passion. You gave me laughter. You taught me to see beauty everywhere in the world.

When we walked on the beach and scrutinised retreating waves and the memories they leave on wet sand, you gave me insight about how yearning shapes us. When we strolled on rain drenched paths and gazed at twin rainbows you taught me that the ephemeral is eternal in memory.

You knew things about me that I never told anybody else. You were the repository of my guilty secrets, foolish hopes and painful memories. You took my hurt, made it your own and I hurt less. You took pride in my achievements and made my joy complete. You gave me hope where I had none, and determination when I wanted to give up.

My trust I gave you, my faith and passion. My grief I shared with you and all my enduring joys. Not a joke that I laughed at went unshared with you. Perhaps I clung too much.

Then, perhaps to balance the joy, you gave me tears and for passion grief. To counter laughter you gave me helpless anger. Alongside beauty there is ugliness now.

I want to turn the clock back and unmake it all. I'd not have revelled in the first joy of finding and bonding had I known this would be future. I'd have walked away before I gave you the power to hurt me.

You gave me a lot of things, just give me one thing more. Turn the clock back.

Unbreak my heart.