She looks haunted. Staring through eyeliner, unblinking, no smile. Plum-colored peasant shirt with black belt at the waist, seated on a friend's futon in the Midwest, R.E.M. poster on the wall behind. She looks sleepless and driven and desperately unhappy.
The relationship was crushing me but my love was total. Maybe it crushed me because my love was total. Maybe the secret would have been to hold something back.
Maybe the secret would have been total commitment. Marriage, therapy. Kids. I don't know.
She was my world and I gave her up. At that moment, to a tubby guitarist in a marginally interesting pop band from New York City.