Rasa Aškinytė

…I could no longer tolerate being in love. I couldn’t stand my heart living independently of my body.  Nothing remained, only Sylvia. I was nothing. She was all that mattered. I existed only when I was breathing her, when I was remembering the last detail of what she’d said, when my fingers and my entire body were remembering her skin, when in my thoughts I was touching her, sensing her closing her eyes and opening them again, when I saw how much she loved and wanted me. Whenever I would shut her apartment door behind me, nothing of me would remain.  At that instant, as if doused with Sulfuric acid, I would disappear into a puff of smoke.  I would wander the streets with nothing to do, and then I would go to bed.

I hadn’t found my other half; I’d found myself.  Now what?...