He was a difficult man
He had once said “I am too much in my wholesomeness…completeness”
Yes, He was a narcissist as well…
She hoped to reach to his depths
All the inner corners
And dark patches (from the past, that often haunted his present)
Less and less so, now
But it did.
They both, kept on going
Or in separation (of moments that would stretch to days)
But kept going, they did.
She, in her little world
And he, in his big one.
With unlimited heart to give to anyone who may wanted or intrigued him.
He kept on crafting stories, living, dying, living…
And she fought on with elusivity…