You Said We Would Always Be Together
You told me that we would always be together. Do you remember that? I certainly do. We did so much together didn’t we? I would call on you or you would call on me and just the two of us would fill our days together. Nothing concerned us. We had one another. We liked the same things and the same things made us laugh. We used to laugh a lot didn’t we? Great big laughs which shook our bodies and made it hard to breathe. We would set one another off and the more you laughed the more you made me laugh and vice versa. We would collapse to the ground pointing and laughing as the tears rolled down our faces. People used to look at us and wonder what has got into those two again? We found humour in so many things and whatever one pointed out the other understood straight away. We worked together too we were a true team. Each knew what the other wanted and we never argued about it. You had your role and I had mine and together we got along just fine. I did not want anyone else apart from you. I did not need anyone other than you. Every day I would wonder what it would have in store for us as we explored and investigated the world together. There was never any disagreement about what we wanted to do. I made a suggestion and you agreed with it. You came up with an idea and I liked it.
The summer was the best time. Those long days. We would be up and away as the first rind of dawn broke on the horizon as the world was not even waking up. How we enjoyed the silence as we made our way to seek out the day’s adventure. We would explore and find something new even if we had been down that path on a previous occasion. Sometimes there would be a scrape and we would have that moment of panic, that sudden uncertainty until we helped one another and then we would halt, free of the danger and stand panting until the laughter took us.
“You should have seen your face,” you would laugh.
“You should have seen yours,” I would respond.
We would break into paroxysms of laughter once again but this time there would be nobody to hear us. Many times we would follow the old rutted and meandering path into the forest to spend time at that lake. The water cool and inviting, an ideal antidote to the heat of the day. The clearing would echo to our shouts as we embarked on some new escapade but there was only ever us there. Nobody knew about this place or if they did, they never chose to visit it. It was a secret place. It was our secret place. Although we loved it most during the summer for it offered so many possibilities for excitement, we did not abandon our haven in the other seasons. Autumn would see us attend there amidst the blustery wind and the swirling leaves to collect and forage. Winter would be a spectacular vision of sparkling whites. The lake frozen and unyielding, a beautiful yet deadly spectacle out before us. Spring brought the smell of life and rejuvenation as the pouring rain woke the forest once again. We loved it all but best of all we loved it together.
We were inseparable and even though the march of time had cast others asunder it had not even shown the first inkling of doing the same to us. We had something different, something that was forever, something real. It was something forged from such similarity that we really were two halves of the same thing. We often looked at one another stood beside that silent pool, the birds silent, too tired from the heat to fly or sing. We stared at our reflections in the tranquil water and without speaking recognised our similarities. It might not have ever come to happen. I sometimes made reference to this serendipity that we had enjoyed but you preferred not to talk about it. I did not mind. It was admittedly easier that way. Sometimes as we crouched beneath the shielding canopy of a tree as the rain lashed down around us, the drumming noise so great that it filled our ears with sound, I would ask if this would always be the way it would be. Without fail you always reassured me.
“We will always be together, I promise.”
You would tell me and I knew you meant it. I knew you stood by your promises.
I know you did not choose to break that promise. Somebody else did. They broke it and then you were gone. It was not the only thing that broke that day.
15 thoughts on “You Said We Would Always Be Together”
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This person could be HG father or a double of himself. When all was all….
Very fine writings. The narc I know write quite the same things. Really interesting but I can’t understand the full and secret meaning of it.
My Dear HG, I think this work of art is about your father. It’s one of my favourites.
Thank you. You shall see in due course Whitney.
Of course my dear Saviour
This is beautifully written, in a very engaging yet mysterious way. The last paragraph has me searching for clues and answers.
The words describe two people, but the feeling I get is that there is only one. I envision a young child, somewhere between two and say, seven years old. He or she is very happy, playful, curious and full of wonder, laughter and joy at discovering the world around them. The forest and lake the child explores and the changing seasons represent the world around the child and the way the child experiences it, and also all the possibilities and promise that the future holds.
The description of two people being in such close unity with each other makes me think it is two parts of the young child’s mind or self – maybe they are the ego and the superego, or maybe they represent the narcissistic and empathic parts working together. These two parts complete the child’s inner self and are in tune with each other, working together to produce joy, curiosity and innocent engagement with the outside world. The two parts reassure and understand each other, representing the ability to self-soothe and instill inner confidence.
Then, something broke these two parts of the inner self apart. It was something from outside the child. One part had to leave. It could have been the narcissistic part or it could have been the empathic part that left. Either way, the reassuring inner relationship between the two parts was broken.
“It was not the only thing that broke that day.” This line could mean a few things. Could it be trust that broke? Or confidence? Or the ability to love? Was it the child’s heart that broke? Or maybe it was the natural course the child’s life would have taken if the two parts had remained intact? Maybe it was all of these things.
No it wasn’t the only thing…my heart broke too. I really miss the private jokes we shared – no one but us knew what we were talking about. I also miss the finishing of each other’s sentences…he won.
This one always makes me smile to think of you laughing and enjoying yourself, it also makes me very sad knowing that something or someone took away that happiness and broke your heart. Will you ever tell us what this story is truly about HG?
Psychopaths don’t have hearts to be broken, dear. It is only their ego that hurts.
Gudrunbrangwen
You are correct in what you say about psychopaths, however my comment was about what I assumed might be a child in this article who definitely had feelings for the person they were with in this story. I have read this story numerous times over the past four years and have always been curious as to what or who this story is about. It is yet another great story by HG that leaves the reader with so many unanswered questions. Thank you for your comment.
He does write beautifully.
Gudrunbrangwen
I looked back and found this article in February 2016. In the comments HG writes that this post had nothing to do with fuel at that time in his life and another comment that asks him if these are true feelings of his, is answered with a yes they are all mine. I knew what I was feeling about this post was correct. HG in one comment you wrote that you would continue with this post and the answers that some of us ask you, are you still planning on doing that, or is this something that will be in a future book? I don’t know if I have worded this correctly because once again you have me in tears! Damn HG! I’m going back to being unplugged!
It will be addressed in a book.
Thank you HG.
Interesting… it was my understanding that a psychopath is born a psychopath and a sociopath is created through a combination of genetic predisposition and childhood trauma. Perhaps this is the story of the end of his innocence. The defining moment. Whatever it is, it’s a beautiful story.