Shattering Love >Chapter Four<

We still talked as we had the first night, but by then, I had realized that there was more to his past than he had shared with me. When he was depressed, I kept asking him to tell me what was wrong, begging him to tell me who or what had hurt him so deeply that it still tormented him today? I wanted to share in the torture he took silently and alone within himself. Maybe if he told me, I could help carry the burden as well. But he would just turn away and crawl into bed, leaving me with nothing to do, but to tuck him in and lie at his side until sleep took away the pain. 1

Sometime shortly after spring had been in full bloom, he began to be unable to write. He looked pale and sickly in the stage light and afterwards, all he could or wanted to do was sleep. He said he was so damn tired of everything that everyone wanted from him. That he kept trying but couldn’t seem to please anyone. 2

And as if it were her stage-cue, she came at his weakest point. He had no ability to fight her, and even I, in all my love for him could not defend him, for he went willingly. 3

She arrived at the Looking Glass one night and headed straight towards him. All of her ice-sculpture body, painted lips and shuttered eyes. The little boys and girls instantly parted for her, they could feel her power too. The power of ice-cold beauty. The Crystal Beauty. And she wanted him.4

And it was as if I had never existed. 5