TALES FROM THE PAINFUL CREVICES OF THE HEART

And so begins along list of tales I would love to share, tales that burned, tales that scalded the skin, tales so cold they froze over what i had left in me. These little tales are my way of letting go of whatever i felt and still feel today and every waking moment, a way for me to tell myself that everything pans out in its own devious, beautiful, dark, sunny way and that all of them were something i had to face to become who i am today, to mold me into the person i have grown to become, to shed tears quietly behind these words knowing full well these tales wont be read by any of those i speak of is saddening yet a relief that it is so.

I look at you as you smile from across the room and i smile too, the energy you give off is enigmatic, infectious, alluring, we all smile as we look at you, as you talk we listen intently, we laugh again at the punchline, a deep hearty laugh, i chime into the story, you listen very carefully and intently as we always do to you. We laugh again...you the hardest it feels good to me to see you laugh to see you with us and to know that a that moment everything else that had happened before did not matter at that moment, that everything else had no effect on this reality that we lived in at that very specific point in time. we go on for a few more minutes as i get lost in thought staring at you, hearing the tv play something in the background that non of us were really paying attention to truth be told, seeing you smiling and having a good time with all of us.

Then the dark thoughts of all the times that you were not who you at this very moment start creeping in, a sentinel of doom and power trips that lasted for days on end, of the many ways those reactions of yours had torn the rest of us apart from each other, made each other out to be the enemy to each other, pitted us against each other, made us compete to be your favorite within the group, made us forget the bond we shared with each other and fought because of his, and when we could not fight each other we fought ourselves, looking for points of imperfection within ourselves and it made us feel ugly for being who we were. We felt worthless and so these feelings culminating into a big explosion, splatter everywhere excluding yourself because your white linen covered soul could not handle such conflict within your dwelling. You were so good at being bad and so bad at being good, it was almost always pointless trying to figure out where your next mood swing would take you and in doing so, took us all.

After a long time of receiving your "constructive criticism" i had grown to be numb to it, to be unfeeling towards the attacks, but it never saved me from the pain i felt afterwards in the confines of my room to which i retreated to escape the chaos going on around me. The pain that racked me up and down as i shed tears, my heart and soul crying out into nothingness and then i would pick myself up again and keep trudging on because as you had put it very clearly and freely "tears are for the weak, women cry...men keep it as fuel to keep moving". It felt so belittling to be told that, it hurt down to the deepest points of my already numbed out heart but those worse words still found a way to cause pain to something that had long ago died.

I would have loved to continue to think about all these things and how you were two very opposite sides to a coin, a coin i wished i had never had thrusted into my hands forcefully and told to deal with, i wished it was this but fate is always plotting and so it did again with me.

I feel sleep coming as I leave the room to go take a rest from the burden that you are.