This is a difficult one because I'm sure I'm looking at it in a way that few will. She was my first love, my eternal mate, the one often referred to as one's soulmate.
She was my wife, the mother of my children, and it wasn't that she "got away," so much as she was ripped away from me.
She was young when we met, just 16...but I think we both knew from that first moment that we were meant to be together. We married when she turned 18, and the hopes of what our future would be like were based off the happy endings of movies and fairytales.
If only I could have known that it wouldn't last...that what we shared was only to be but brief moments in my lifetime. If only I had known that in one fleeting instant it would all be torn away from us. If only I could have known that I would lose them all and that I would be forced to live the rest of my life with only the memories of them to keep me company, to make me feel complete.
We had 7 years together, 5 of those as husband and wife, we had two children between us, and we loved each other with all of our hearts.
Maybe it was because we were so young, maybe it was our innocence, maybe we were just too much in love, whatever the reason we failed to heed the warnings, refused to believe that anything could take what we had from us. We were so wrong.
Who looks toward the future and imagines that those you love will no longer be part of it? We didn't, and so when the war came we pretended that everything would be alright. When people started fleeing the City we talked about it, but I had my classes and my residency, and we couldn't believe that the horrors happening to others could possibly touch us. We were wrong, so very wrong.
In an instant everything changed, and in the course of 24 hours I was alone. Everything we had planned for, all of our hopes, our dreams were shattered and I was left alone to find a way to gather up the pieces of what remained.