The other side of was.

As is the case with life, all things (good or bad) come to an end. I was once told that every true story ends in death. Of course I countered with two names, Enoch and Elijah. If there have been others, I am unaware. My point? No. Not abstract rambling. Actually, a day of clarity. For the past three years I have attempted to convey my perspective on events that have led up to my current state of affairs. Each time I deleted the words as they all touched a little too closely to wounds not yet healed. What I have found is that while time does have a healing affect, some hurts just take longer.

Perhaps these words will serve a prelude to my story so eager to be told. I suppose I should continue while in the vault, but time is not on my side. I rather hold the words until sufficient focus can be given. Come back tomorrow, if you will. Just keep in mind truth isn’t always considered universally balanced. At the end of the day, however, it is that which unlocks the door to acceptance.

Results may vary…

hiding behind the…

my feelings –

alien to you as much as – secure is to timid,

shatter like shards of glass against your narcissistic walls…

how awesome,

it must be –

being you;

how – required!

pompous as an apostrophe –

owning possession,

and the power to unite –

yet completely – unaffected!

and while you dangle effortless,

unencumbered –

I remain tied to the weight of my own culpability.

necessary,

you are –

more than any imagined ownership.

for without you,

meaning is lost;

and I become irrelevant as a useless preposition –

alone – without the companion of my most reluctant,

yet oh so necessary –

object…