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Deal | bohemiantragedy's Blog


  The secrets flood upon me, haunting deep into my soul. Words of betrayal, sung by children, echo endlessly the sounds of muffled decay throughout the hollowed shell of me that once contained my soul. These words are spoken clearly, just as the faces held in the telling. The innocent stand reenacting, as if in a play from life, as if normal. Oblivious to the hurt just delivered, they see no harm in the telling of this truth. They are simple messengers without experience about such matters. To them this is nothing more than a story they felt worthy of retelling. A fantasy based on real events, but altered slightly to be made less, and nothing more.
 
I listen hard, my ears stretched wide, desperately keeping myself in check. I fought hard to keep the tears from showing the hurt I had been filled with, unknowingly delivered by these angels of innocence. I keep my strength until the story ends then laugh openly to keep the illusion of my strength a little longer. But inside I am dying, Having yet another emotional dagger thrust into my chest once more. Another gaping wound allowing a little more of my anima to slip away from me. I dare not show it. Running dangerously low on emotional bandages I am at a loss and unable to completely stop the exodus. But I cannot risk being perceived as even less than I am now. I cannot be human. I cannot be weak. 
 
Is this what is to be my life from now? Am I to spend what time is left as the father held in secrets? Am I not to be trusted? Am I to be purposely excluded, held at arms length from all until there is need? Perhaps I am someone to be thrown a bone to on occasion or someone left just outside the circle of a life that once was. Maybe I am to be someone better left forgotten? Someone with a name no longer spoken? I am left alone, that is my sentence and in itself a torture without end. I have been held accountable and then convicted of unspecified crimes against the Aristocracy to which there is no forgiveness, no appeal, and certainly no parole. Weary from the conflict that I cringe at the thought of trying to justify myself. Those that once loved me hold now conditions or terms, and they must be satisfied before I am able to proceed. This course was laid out before me. It it impossible to navigate and harder to change. Even so, I once again find myself adrift on this endless sea of tormented emotions. I was offered no love to take with me. No sympathy or forgiveness either. I built my raft from hope, strapped myself down, and set sail.
    Why do I still believe? Why do I allow myself to be treated this way. A fool's repetition of unobtainable goals, destined to be tried repeatedly until something - or someone - dies. I know I will be blamed to the end of time, when all of life stops moving. I will be hated even longer for reasons still remain unclear. I will not be trusted or believed. I'll find no love, I'll find, no caring, no joy or happiness. Just a sea of hate that's slowing rising despite my efforts to stop it's swell. It is not enough to simply will good fate. It's not enough to dream. It's not enough to become one and it's not enough to know. The more I've learned the less it's mattered and I have wasted so much time on all of the bad and trying to correct it, but for what I am still not clear. When to give up, now that's a question. When are you supposed to call it quits? If I give up now, who would care or even notice I was gone? No one would, that much is clear, it's clear from the ignoring.
 
For now, I'll stop these thoughts and focus on the good in front me. I'll give them all I have left to give and show them who I really am. Who I've become. Then in peace I'll send them on and hope they will not think less of me. Eventually they'll understand the message sent and hopefully they'll realize that not all things are as they seem. Maybe there will be questions difficult to answer on what was said and done by those proclaiming forgiveness. But that burden will not be theirs today, and I will never tell them. I'll remain here, darkening with every passing minute until the answer comes to me, until I find my way. One thing is certain, the only clear path I see, is that I will be the one to suffer, I'll be the one left to deal.

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