Maybe the person I'm really angry with is myself. I relied on hope and love and fear. I should have relied more on honesty and realism. I lied to myself. I knew what was going on, I just didn't like what the signs were saying. This is the part where love doesn't feel fair; I suppose it isn't. What's the lesson?
That I was so caught up in wanting to be loved that I forgot to make sure it was the right love. And when it wasn't, the smart thing to do would have been to end it. The most we can hope to do is lessen suffering. Life is suffering, it's true. I gave into pleasure and forgot about the pain, about what it was telling me.
Can I forgive myself? For the lies and manipulations and avoidances. I'm angry at myself, I feel that now.
My god, I wanted to be loved and worshiped and cared about. I wanted it so badly. Even when I felt it slip away, I couldn't let the memory die. I held it together, tried to posses it.
I accept that it was real, but not always right. I accept that I tried to control it and lost my mind when I realized I couldn't. I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet. I molded myself into a cage of my own making and convinced myself I wasn't locked up. I let myself believe I was delusional and you backed it up.
I accept that it was love. The fire and the sparks and the care I felt were real and important. A stand alone love. We both felt it, were maybe too cowardly or scared to let it go.
I am grateful to have known it for a time, thank you. I can forever be warmed by those many memories and times together. For I have known such a beautiful love, even if it wasn't mine to keep. For a time, I held it so near and it warmed my entire being. What a gift. I want to see the glory, not be angry at the pain. It just is.
Give me lemons,
I shall turn them into the sun.
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