I saw a picture of you the other day. Made my knees weak, did you know? Made my stomach churn and my head spin.
You don't deserve to have that effect on me.
It must have been one hell of a picture, you say. Not really. Just you, smiling like always, same exact face I remember. So how did it shake me the way it did?
It was a current photograph.
I admit, you do look okay. Pretty good, actually. Nothing that I should be worried about right now. And your smile seems more real than some of the ones I'd seen before...
But I'm nauseous. Disturbed. Violently shaken. Because there's a small part of me that never wanted to see your face ever again.
Memories are one thing. Pictures of the past, you know? But recent pictures... Oh, god. Recent pictures make the hurt come alive all over again.
I'm starting to wonder why I do this to myself. Why I go out looking for you in the most obscure places and then balk when I actually find something. Am I trying to inflict pain? I'm no masochist, I'm pretty sure of that. Am I crazy? Possibly, but this is more than any whim of insanity.
I think... Well, I guess I know. I think?
The part of me that is courageous--the brave part that fights my battles--has concocted this bizarre notion that one day I'll break down the barriers and rush to save you. That someday I'll be strong enough, bold enough, clever enough to find a way to reverse this horrid process and right the wrongs.
No need to tell me I'm wrong. I already know that. But maybe... Maybe.
Maybe my strength will be enough to free us all.
15 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment