Living in Disequilibrium.

I loved a girl who loved me back, but I had to leave her.
Why?
I don’t know. It was as if she was surrounded by a circle of armed men, their spears thrusting outward. Each time I went near her, I plunged into the spears which wounded me, and I felt forced to back off. I have suffered much.
Was this the girl’s fault?
I do not think so, or rather, I am convinced it wasn’t. The analogy I have just made is not entirely accurate, for I was also surrounded by armed men, with their poised spears aiming inward, that is, against my body. Whenever I tried to approach her, I was first wounded by my own men’s spears and I could not go on beyond that point. Perhaps I never reached the girl’s armed men, and if I did, I approached them already bleeding from my men’s wounds, and almost unconscious from pain.
Did the girl end up all alone?
No. Someone else walked up to her, lightly and never finding any obstacles. Tired of my own efforts, I watched him with indifference, as if I was the air rushing between their faces as they approached for their first kiss.