Sequence of Truth

Time.

There was a time I existed… only in my own head.

There was a timeIi went nearly extinct; thrived only by nourishing words… seldom received.
For a while, those got scarce… and my light almost winked out.

Almost.
It was a tough time.
But i made it through.

I saw the look on my mother’s face when they told her my father had killed himself.
I saw my sister fall apart.
I heard their questions and pleas… heard them mourn, saw them crumble and fall.
I didn’t want to help them find answers.
I knew there weren’t any.
He was gone… and nothing would make him come back.

Oh, I hurt, too.
I cried, too.
But I wouldn’t join them. couldn’t join them.
None of them had ever known what he had done to me.
They still do not know.

I am not sure if he deserved my tears… I want to believe he did; because deep inside, he was a good person.
Someone worth mourning.

Does it make sense to love and hate one person equally?
Does it make sense to miss someone who screwed with your head and heart, but at the same time always looked out for you?
Does it make sense to want to kick someone’s ass and hug them at the same time?

For me, it does.
I miss my father.
No child is born bad; there is always someone who is responsible for screwing people up.
Someone did that to my dad.
And my dad did it to me.

Back then, life wasn’t easy.
Like I said… my light almost winked out.
I almost gave up.

Almost… that’s the keyword.

I had to make a decision.
Long ago…
I decided that I would be the one to ruin my life… if anyone should have the opportunity, it should be me.
Ever since that day, I wear my fighting gloves. They might look old and worn by now, but they are still all I need.
Problems, no matter how big they may seem, are minor obstacles.

At the end of the day, after all, I still breathe.
I still have my spark.

Isn’t that all that matters?

I do exist.
Not only in my own head, but in this world.
I do exist… and i could not be more thankful.

Pain and joy both make me realize one thing…
I am still alive enough to feel them.

after the storm

where do i begin?

she sat by the window. the steady drizzle had turned into full-out rain a while ago. when… she did not remember.
she watched the day going to sleep. twilight… such a peaceful thing.
the cigarette she had lit had died after a drag or two. it didn’t matter. it had just been a diversion anyways.

he had left her again after things went bad.
with the tip of her tongue, she gently touched her split lip, wincing at the stab of pain it caused her. her cheek, still stinging faintly, would show color tomorrow. a light purple perhaps; it would match the color of her eye’s contour.
her thoughts provoked a bitter smile. at least he made her life colorful.
absurd.

her eyes lingered on her beloved garden outside, slowly growing darker. her refuge; she could not count the hours she had spent looking at it from this exact same spot, nor could she recall all the times she had spent in pain caused by his hands. wickedly familiar.
it seemed like a lifetime.

where do i begin?

undoubtedly he would return in a little while. return; bearing some petty gift to make up for his actions. once, she had believed his pained expression and pathetic attempts. once, she had believed he would stop.
once… she had been naive and loving.

she had stopped believing years ago.

she exhaled, deeply, forcefully; causing the window’s glass to fog up. lifting her slightly trembling fingers, she drew the shape of a crooked heart onto the smooth, cold surface.
she would leave it behind… the small, disgusting part of herself that still loved him. she had no more use for it.

with a final sigh she stood, grabbed her car keys from the low coffee table and moved to wrestle the big suitcase she had packed in a frenzy out the door. if its contents made sense, she would find out later. for now, it didn’t matter.
as the front door closed behind her and the fresh, rich scent of the evening’s rain filled her nostrils, she made herself one promise. one promise she intended to keep.

here.
here and now is where i begin.

she never looked back.