In the beginning

there was love. This everlasting, incredible burst of emotion, coursing through her veins, rushing into her heart; a beautiful feeling, albeit one that she had felt several times in the past. With familiar reasoning, and a similar ongoing rush of euphoria, she dove into his arms, letting the hush of his breath and the warmth of his love envelope her. She was lost in him. Within the abyss of his soul, deeper, deeper still until they were not more than a single entity, an individual combination of energy, of power, of love.
 

Then

There was the pain. Inevitably, there was pain.  When her throat ceased to open again after that final breath of happiness; it clogged and stuck; hot with tears and sore from her quiet cries of despair. And her brain throbbed and the sharp pain between her eyes shot through her nerves over and over and over again. When her pillows became accustomed to the soil of tears dropped on them night after night. When the skin beneath her eyes darkened with insomnia and the twinkle in her iris dulled. When the hurt was so real, it crossed over its emotional boundaries and harassed her physically.

And after

The constant cycle of love and hate, of euphoria and happiness followed by despair and pain, and pain, and more pain, their love dimmed. It was still present, they were still one, their soul had not split, but was simply hollow. And their fingers that were once entwined loosened. And their kisses that had once prevailed, subsided. And their lingering looks became glances. And their words of endearment became chains.

And finally

There was nothing.