My Greatest Fear

"This is incredible," The man though as he lay on her bed. He was sure no other drug could match the sensation of what was coursing through his veins. He seemed to simultaneously feel a sense of indescribable ecstasy, and inescapable dread.
That girl, who now sat at the end of the bed thoughtfully brushing her hair, had felt it too once. He was sure of that. But, that was before things changed.
He half-smiled as he watched her, running the bristles through each long dark strand. She was beautiful, that was beyond question, but somehow, he was sure that no other man had ever seen her this way. Whatever was now running through him was opening his eyes in ways he had never imagined.
As he watched her, he felt his chest begin to tighten. His breathing became shallow and suddenly he was filled with an overwhelming fear that she would leave. He quickly sat up and reached for her, but as his fingers drew near, her figure wavered, and his hand slipped right through.
"I remember this," he thought. "But that was so long ago!"
Suddenly he was no longer lying on her bed, but was in a car, driving to see her. It was a long trip, but it was worth it. He would see her again, for the first time in months. He counted down the miles to himself, and as he grew closer his excitement began to rise, and the drug once again coursed through his veins.
There was her house. He could see it looming up from the distance. Finally he would hold her in his arms again, but as he pulled into the drive, the world began to waver, and was gone.
He opened his eyes and was greeted by the harsh light streaming through the windows, and felt slightly lightheaded from the badly regulated pressure of the cabin. He was in a plane, flying to see her. He reached into his bag and pulled out the ring he had bought for her. This would be the end of it, he was sure of that. Once the ring was on her finger, she would never slip away again.
When he landed he rushed out to greet her. He put his arms around her, kissed her, and set out to leave the airport.
In the car he opened the box, and felt that tightening once again. As he slipped the ring onto her finger, she vanished, and the ring fell to the floor before it too disappeared.
When the world around him returned he was lying in his own bed, alone with a phone clasped to his ear. He was begging to see her again. Somehow he knew that that may never happen again, but he would never give up. As he spoke he felt their hands on his skin.
His mistakes clawed at him. Their ragged nails dug not at his flesh but at his soul, and worse, at hers. He pulled their hands away, but for every one he freed himself from, two more took it's place. They reached for the phone, and as they touched it, it too disappeared. She was gone.
He knew now what he was on, and why he could feel both so good, and so bad. He loved her, beyond the measure of anything he had ever felt before, and now he had lost her. The ecstasy was gone, and all that remained was the ache and torment of the hell his past had created. He had watched her slip away from him. Now it was too late.