Such is life

They met on Bumble. She had been out of a ten year relationship for around nine months and had met a couple interesting people, but through some hurtful realizations found that the online dating pool may not be one she wanted to swim in for long. At their age, everyone they met was severely damaged in some way, and projecting onto the other person the idea of who someone should be instead of truly seeing the individual. Perception is a funny thing though. We see what we want. We dismiss the red flags. We chase. We run. We neglect to see the reality. All he had was a trunk when they moved him out of that dark rental room on the hill. Next to the shut down children's school. A block or two from one of the greatest horror writers of our time. A trunk, a basket of clothes, some bedding, and a TV. In reality, the signs were clear. In her head, it was just something she had to do.

He moved in after they had known each other for a month and a half. She knew he had demons. She could tell they followed him for a large part of his life. She knew because he told her. Mostly because he would get so drunk that any kind of a filter was impossible. It made for some funny moments, but it also made for some really hurtful things that happened during the long 2 years that had built up for them. The demon of alcohol wraps around your brain, and invites the darkness in. That darkness follows you, and it in turn invites its friends. So when she began to get paranoid, and jealous, and when she was hurt she looked through the trunk. Trying to find a reason for his selfish and childish behavior. There were some random things in the trunk; a shirt or two, some biography books, old letters and papers, a few DVD's, and a couple little black leather journals.

They both were fascinated by the paranormal and had an affinity for horror movies. She read tarot cards, and he did some ghost hunting when he was younger. They would watch a horror movie together every night in bed. It was their thing. When he was not drinking he was quiet, and somber, and sad. When he drank, he was loud, and boisterous, and a know it all. It was hard to meet the man in the middle. He existed though, and he was a kind and thoughtful man, who deeply cared about the people in his life. Over more than a decade, his demons took root and attached themselves to him. You could see in his writing the sensitive soul he possessed, mixed with his creativity and flair. You could also see his demons. That little black book had everything written in it. His poetry mostly having to do with love and pain. There were notes from past lovers. The girls that haunt him. So she wrote in it too. A warning to him. A warning about perceptions, and love, and truth.

She asked an online friend to do a tarot reading for her. In the reading her friend told her that he had a malevolent spirit attached to him. She already knew this, and had felt it since they met. She had always thought it was an ex who was manifesting ill will towards the two of them. It wasn't. Her friend told her it was something in his blood line, something tied to him for generations possibly. It could have been a pact, or a curse, but it followed him. It was a jealous spirit who interfered with love. Self love, and the love of others. They had often talked about how they felt a presence around them. It was never certain what it was, or where it was. It was more of a feeling. This feeling had led to a vicious toxic cycle of the two of them hurting each other over and over again.

So when he found the part she had written in the book and asked her about it, their conversation upset him. He cried for the loss of the life he used to have, now currently having almost nothing, except for her. She truly tried her best to be there for him. This feeling of being out of control made him weary, weak, and sad. He resolved to live for himself and to cast out the darkness of his past and the demons and ghosts that haunt him. So he burned the little books along with a couple of other things. Cleansing one aspect of his life he had held so tightly to. His past, where he could only see darkness and trouble.

Things started to even out a bit for the two of them. They would enjoy their time together not drinking more and more often, laughing, and making good conversation and food. A couple of weeks later he received a phone call. She heard him on the phone, she could tell something was happening. She tried to ask him what was going on but he said he didn't want to talk about it yet. He didn't get out of bed for days. When he finally did one morning, she made him some coffee and they sat on the couch to talk. He told her that the call he received was about an old girlfriend who had just passed away that she had known about. Only it wasn't an old girlfriend. It was his wife he had abandoned. She died in a car accident, apparently substance abuse had been a factor. He had been named as the benefactor of her life insurance policy which left him $25,000. He took $5,000 and bought a ticket to Brazil to go to the monkey preserve he had always talked about. He left her the remaining $20,000 and they never saw each other again. She never wanted money. All she ever wanted was truth, and now she finally had it. She only wanted them both to be free.