Fire

Leo is made of fire. He radiates, he smoulders. People are either drawn to him like moths to a flame, or scared of being burned. At his best, he is a storm candle, a lantern, a glowing fireplace from which to draw comfort. At his worst, he is a raging inferno, bent on fury and destruction until his energy is spent. Yet he is energy, composed of it and adept at manipulating it. He gives it freely to those he loves without a thought for himself. Those who love him in return wish he would direct his flow inward from time to time, but how do you tell a wildfire to change direction?

I saw all this in Leo when we first met, before we had spoken a word to each other. I couldn't articulate it then as I can now, but even on first meeting he was as magnetic as though he were the centre of the universe and I had no choice but to gravitate toward him. In crowds of strangers he becomes the centre of attention, the campfire that all the happy scouts sit and sing around and roast marshmallows over. He has an innate talent, of which I am certain that he is barely aware, in bringing out the best in others. He makes you feel cool, accepted and important. That was how he made me feel during our first conversation, and I see that feeling in the new friends he makes.

A counsellor once told me that people in social situations generally fall into two categories: givers and takers. Leo is a giver, first and foremost. There is no doubt that he revels in the attention he gets, but he feels rejection acutely, much as he feels shame when he lavishes his attentions on those undeserving of it. When all one's energy is directed outward, there can be nothing left to make sense of oneself - that is his downfall. Like me, Leo suffers from depression, but his springs from a source quite different to mine; in many respects, his comes from the opposite direction.

Sadness and anger are two sides of the same coin. Sadness is negative emotion internalised; anger is externalised negativity. My sadness fills me up inside, and the occasions that I burst or overflow are private affairs, whereas Leo has difficulty keeping his anger in check. His GP says that she has never known a patient so angry. To his credit, his anger has never turned into violence, but he finds it impossible not to express his emotions. He has never been able to lie to me about his moods. His demeanour, his posture, his tone all leave him an open book. I have learned over time how and when to approach him when his eyes are burning and his mouth is full of smoke, and I have learned when the flames are too high for me to come near. His state of mind suffuses him entirely; his flame may constantly change size but it is always visible.

For my part, I cannot say whether my presence in his life has pacified or enraged him. If Leo is fire then I am air, both the fuel to his flame and the gale to extinguish him entirely. In a lifetime of playing peacemaker, I have never been able to find the middle ground to his inner conflicts. Perhaps this is only right; only he can find peace, if that is indeed what he wants. He has often told me that he needs me more than I need him, to give him direction and control. If truth be told, I need him more than I could tell him. To be loved is a great responsibility, and Leo has never dealt with being loved very well. But he gives me warmth and courage. I am braver and better for knowing him. If not for him, I would have been more acutely depressed much longer ago. Perversely, he feels responsible for my depression. He is convinced that he has caused it by bringing his problems into our relationship, and I cannot change his mind. Leo's fire lends him a great deal of stubbornness; once the flame is lit, it cannot be changed - only extinguished.

I love and admire him immensely. He moves and frustrates me equally, but I could not be without him. Trying to instigate as big a change in our relationship as I did has taught me this. Nothing has changed except the terms by which we refer to each other; if anything, our break-up has merely been an exercise in balancing our inseparability with individual freedom. I needed to stop smothering him as much as he needed to burn ever more brightly. Leo is unpredictable and dangerous, but a life without him would be dark and cold.