Love Beyond Hurt

She sat on the rough edge of the concrete. Before her stretched other rooftops, dwindling away to the forest on the horizon. This wasn't the first time she had retreated to this unlikely refuge. He had hurt her many times before, but never this deeply and personally. Someday, she would be too powerful to feel hurt from him any more.
 
Or, was that too numb?
 
She removed the cover from her Tim Horton's hot chocolate, and blew air along the steaming surface of the light brown liquid. Hot chocolate brought back memories of comfort: a warm, cozy refreshment after wintertime ice-skating or snow-fort-building. After all these years, the chocolate warmth still seemed to touch her heart as it soothed and warmed her stomach. It reminded her of her mother's love.
 
The wind was her companion on the rooftop. It whistled softly, channeled between the suburban houses and along the roads. It felt slightly chill, rustling against her soft blue synthetic zip-up jacket liner. Soon, the wind would carry along colourful autumn leaves.
 
Why did he hurt her so, her lifelong companion? She knew he loved her, but not why he hurt her. She endured it by mercy of her love for him. Somehow, he still hadn't changed, despite all the years. Sometimes this ugliness came out of him, lacerating her with words and horrors from their past, binding her behaviour with struggles of the present. Perhaps it would always be this way. Her love strained to believe otherwise.
 
He didn't know this place, her hiding space on the rooftop. He knew that she went to hide, to recover from her pain, sorrow, and confusion. He never tried to follow her; he never tried to find her secret space. He loved her enough to know she needed to step away at times, to deal with the hurt alone, in her own way. He didn't know of her companionship with the wind, whistling among and above the suburban houses.
 
Sarah had told her many times to give him up, but she loved him too much to run from the hurting. After all of these years, even thinking of running away became distant and unfocused. She lived and thrived on his love, and the hurt – well – the hurt was becoming background noise for her. Sarah meant well, and was a good friend, but Sarah didn't understand or know what went on inside of her. The struggle within was such a huge part of her relationship with him. It brought these times of aching reverie among the rooftops.
 
She gazed into the distance, eyes unfocused and relaxing. She felt her tension draining from her shoulders, hips, waist, brow, ankles, and crown. Laying back onto the rough concrete, she began deep breathing, abdomen only. Fresh oxygen and relaxation soothed the hurt, let the stress fade, and cleared her mind. Soft clouds coasted along the sky above her, accompanied by a few con-trails. Relaxation faded to dreaming sleep: a fifteen-minute nap of refreshment.