Lover By Karl Anderson He loved her with all of his heart. He loved her with everything he could give.

His still-born heart skipped beats and fluttered like a million million graceful butterflies trapped within his skin, their tiny wings, glimmering with mesmeric colour, brushing gently against his bones, making him feel lighter than air; like he could take off at any moment. He paced himself. Each breath he took reminded him to breathe the next as he steadied his shaking hands. Her golden hair shone like a blaze in his eyes as he felt the cadence of his breath fall and slow to a steady rhythm. Her face, delicate as the butterflies that danced in his chest, was etched in his mind; those tender lips, pink and youthful; her glistening eyes as blue and deep as oceans. The room was dark but light crept in from the street as he slinked across the floor, his knees shaking with each step. He dragged the chair across the floor, its feet making a terrible scraping sound on the wood that woke him from his daze. Focus, he thought as he positioned the chair beneath the ceiling fan. It was a hot night but he left the fan off and sweated his heart clean; his sick, black heart, once so full of light and joy, now poisoned by the love he felt. Love is a dirty emotion. He repeated this in his head as he tried to remember what made Love so grand that poets and minstrels would dedicate such beautiful words to its honour. Love is blind. Love is folly. Love kills. It wasnt so long ago that he felt it, pure as the driven snow, and he wished for it to be the same again; he longed for a time when he felt buoyed by it. What is your hearts desire? she had once asked him, and, with a smile and a glint in his eye, he replied, You. He remembered her gentle laugh and the soft kiss she planted on his cheek. He remembered her words. You can have me. Im all yours. It was a simple statement but it meant everything to him. Despite himself, he breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as she laughed again. They shared such special times; times he would never forget. He loved her laugh; the way her lips pursed just slightly as if she was embarrassed to be seen to smile. He loved the little flick of the hair she gave as a giggle escaped her gorgeous lips. I love you, he said as he stroked her hair and traced her cheek gently with his fingers. I love you too, she replied softly, her smile shifting and dropping as if she meant it from the bottom of her heart. And he believed her. He blinked slowly and leant in. He stopped just shy of her lips and waited for them to part, just slightly. She leaned forward and met his gaze. Then, as one, they closed their eyes and their lips met. Sparks flew as his skin touched hers, gently at first, and then with a passion that engulfed them both like coals in a flame. She shifted closer and he felt her hand on the back of his neck as she pulled him toward her. And, for one fleeting moment, he truly believed love would be his saviour. Now, however, he no longer believed it. He paced himself.

He stood alone in his room as light crept across the floor from the streetlight outside his window. The light caught a glimpse of his eyes, streaked with tears as he felt his breath quicken. His love was gone the way of all flesh; lost to the embers of fate and time, burning like the coals his love was built on. He slowed his breathing as he stepped up onto the chair with a cord in his hands. He tied it around the base of the ceiling fan and pulled it tight. Their first fight. It had all the hallmarks of their last; the spite, the rage and all the unspoken resentment. All the words of love and light meant nothing as they spat hatred at each other, words scarring like razors and knives, tearing strips from his soul, and breaking her solemn heart. He tried to keep loving her through all the meanspirited words and the looks of hatred. She tried to hate him for all his guilty prose. I lied when I said I loved you, she screamed, You dont deserve me. And he knew it was the truth. He tied a neat slipknot in the end of the cord; he had learned how to do this as a child in the Boy Scouts, although he was sure this was not what was intended when his group-leader had taken him aside to help him. Would Geoff, the kind-hearted Scout leader, have taken the time all those years ago if hed have known what this knowledge would be used for? The butterflies in his chest began to die, one by one, as he slotted his head through the narrow loop in the cord. She had left him alone in the darkened room with the words, Go fuck yourself. Ill speak to you again when Im ready and not before. His heart broke. He knew it was over. All those loving looks and gentle caresses were to be no more. It had been five days since those words were spoken and he had lost hope. Suddenly he felt heavy as a stone. He emptied his pockets, his mobile phone falling out onto the floor. He didnt even look at it. He just stared at the short, terse note he had left on the counter. It was too dark to read it, but he already knew the words by heart. By the time you read this I will have taken the cowards way out. Im sorry. That was all it said. That was all it needed to say. He felt the cord tighten around his throat as he leaned into it and the knot coiled around the fan. He stepped forward and, using his heel, kicked the chair out from under him. And then he fell. It was the longest fall of his life as his feet dropped to within inches of the floor. He dangled there for a moment, his hands limp by his side, the cord becoming sharp against his throat as the knot tightened around his neck. Spots appeared before his eyes, and his feet began kicking, just slightly at first and then harder as the reality of finality crashed down upon him. But the decision was made and there was no turning back now. If there was ever a time to stand by ones convictions he thought, but his mind was racing and the thought was incomplete. Suddenly, in the darkened room, he saw a flash of light. He thought it was simply an effect as the oxygen turned toxic in his lungs and he began to splutter and choke. The mobile phone, sitting face-up on the floor, began to vibrate. A name came up on the screen. Her name

He glanced down at it, panic in his eyes now as he finally, weakly, reached for the cord clamping down on his throat and tried to free himself. Please he croaked through strained breath as the last butterfly in his heart fluttered its last beat. Final words and baited breath; decisions made with great regret. Suddenly, in his final moment, he knew what love was.