It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul.
Whenever I look into her eyes I can feel the depth of her. I’ve always thought that she was older and more wise than the forty or so winters that she has walked this earth.
I’ve never loved anyone, or anything, more than I love her.
We’ve shared so much. I watched her blossom into womanhood from when we were children at the same school. I don’t believe in destiny, but what we have is probably the closest thing. I’ve just always felt we will never, ever be apart.
When I look into her eyes now I can recall all the experiences that they’ve seen, as most of the time I was there too.
We were married at twenty and already in our first house. Sadly, we weren’t blessed by the pitter-patter of little feet. At least not bipedal, anyway. We’ve always had pets in the house. Cats, dogs, a hamster or two. We’ve never been alone.
I’ve certainly never felt alone with her. In fact, she has always made me feel like I am the only thing that matters. We are two halves of one whole.
The legend that is Tommy Steele sang:
“Half a sixpence is better than half a penny,
Is better than half a farthing, is better than none.
It’s a token of our eternal love.
When you’re far away, touch it everyday.
And though that half a sixpence can only mean half a romance
Remember that half a romance is better than none.
But when I’m with you, One and one make two,
And likewise two half sixpence joined together make one.”
We are that sixpence. Without her I am nothing.
My Gran said that she would be “the One” for me the day she first met her.
As with most other things, she was right about her.
There was, and is, no other. I could never contemplate it.
My Lizzie. My soulmate.
Looking at her eyes now it is getting harder to see what we had been.
I’ve never, ever stopped loving her. Sadly, she had stopped loving me.
I don’t know when it changed for her; when she saw in others what she couldn’t see in me. But, it did happen.
At first, I couldn’t believe it. I was fooling myself for a while. My mind legitimising the subtle clues. The later working hours. The extra time spent on makeup when “going out with the girls”. Lizzie is a natural beauty and never used to spend as much time (or money) on makeup as her friends, until recently.
She lost her way. And I was losing her.
It had to stop.
Sadly, when I look in her eyes now I see the pain. The love is lost.
I still love her.
At least the memory of her.
And her eyes.
I will treasure them forever.
The rest of her is lying at the bottom of Derwent Water with that stunted lover of hers. He had to go too. I didn’t keep anything of his.
Looking at her eyes now, I can dredge up the memories of us and hold onto them.
I will never let her go.
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