This man who once had self-esteem and dignity was whimpering at her door step, and begging her to come back to him. The woman who he gave his heart to, had gone to another faraway place called The Valley of Forgetfulness.
Just like the first nineteen women, she took his heart and played with it for her own amusement. Instead of applying what he had learned from them, he threw himself into their laps and let them have their way with him. He let love overshadow all reasoning and all the things that make man a man. His strength was like a raging river that became a brook that became a swamp. Instead of rolling to the sea, it soon dried up like a wilted flower.
When they first met, she was looking for someone to give her heart to. He took it and savored every inch of it. He let it drain into every pore and every crevice. He awoke with it generating his pulse and leading him to the land of oblivion. It worked its way into his spirit and like soapy water, it started loosening his convictions, that which she first fell in love with. He started losing his self to her, and she started falling out of love with him, that man that was once a man.
After those nineteen failed relationships, he knew what he was doing, but did nothing to stop himself from falling totally in love. He savored that feeling that worked its way into his spirit and wished it would stay. He gave his heart into her keeping and made a bond of that love rather than letting the moving sea flow between the shores of their souls. He left no room for her to breathe and feel the freedom of life in her desired separateness.
He smothered her with his devotion to her and left her gasping for air. He kept on ignoring the creed of those who are happily in love with each other.
Love with another
Is in the entirety of giving,
But not the losing
Of oneself in that giving.