“His form has passed away, he has become a mirror: naught is there but the image of another’s face.” – Jalaluddin Rumi
i wish i weren’t so observant. it is a curse. it forever brings to mind things i am trying so very hard to forget. it forever hurts me when all i want is to never feel such things or think of them, ever, ever again.
i said i blocked the way. and i laughed, mostly at myself, because if you know me at all, then you know i **never** block the way. it is the one thing i can never really manage to do.
oh, i’ll say i have. because saying it is all most people need to go away. because there really aren’t many people in the world as willing to… well. i suppose that just sounds egoist. sorry.
i am looking forward to the day when seeing any reminder of presence whatever does not immediately bring a spike of pain, an urge to weep, and a weary, heavy, heart-sick ache.
four months. and counting. and damn me, but for all those days, not a one has passed in which these thoughts fled.
it’s like being wrapped in shadow. some thick, persistent miasma that weighs down every effort.
i know it’s me. i know it’s just my clinging. for all i’ve let go, there’s still so much to relinquish. why do i fight so hard to avoid it? what has it brought me other than abject suffering?
how stupid must i be? how blind? how pointlessly, hopelessly, insanely optimistic?
didn’t i have this conversation with myself several months ago? and then several months before that?
maybe i’ll just tag this my quarterly “let’s be stupid” moment and gain some distance on it that way.
no more. damn me. no more. i’ve hurt enough. i’ve tried enough. i’ve taken enough. i’ve been miscast and condemned on every conceivable level, in the face of all effort to softer things, despite repeated olive branches.
damn it. no more. look at the landscape of me… there are no trees left. look at the canyon, sealed, its innards descimated. look at what i’ve allowed. is this not enough? is this not beyond too much?
damn me. what does it take?
but i’m laughing.
how many years did it take me to give up on my father? 39.
how many years did it take me to give up on my sister? 31.
how many years did it take me to give up on rick? 14.
damn me. i suppose i should be thankful the numbers seem to be getting smaller.
how long will this take?
i do not know.
damn me.
i noticed that little fucking light.
damn me.