mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- snake I think there was a box I never should have opened, two years ago. Maybe two boxes, maybe three, and I flung off the lids impulsively and let myself tumble headlong inside. There are sweet and gentle kinds of love and there are violent and terrifying kinds of love and I am walking a line between the two at the moment. I would hurt anyone who hurt him, I would give all that I own to make him happy, but something else is growing just alongside the path to reconciliation: Fury. Spite. Spiked and jagged leaves that will slice your fingers if you reach out to pull them from the soil. If you had seen what I saw last night-- he insisted just a joke-- you would be angry, too. He forgets so quickly how it felt to have his head held while he cried, to have that unending support and the warmth of love standing right beside him. There is a part of me that says, "Best to let sleeping dogs lie. What you don't know cannot hurt you. Wait patiently and he will come back to you." There is a second part, smaller but growing each day, that says, "Guard yourself. He is a snake; he will strive to avoid your footfalls but if your bare ankles come to close to his hole in the ground he will strike and he will take you down. Look for the signs." Last night I went through all of the pictures of him on my phone and deleted them all, pictures of us kissing, pictures of us at the zoo, smiling for the camera, not knowing that one short year later our charade would be so pathetic and transparent. His touch used to make me warm all over and now I wonder who his fingers feel when they run over my body. He loves me, I love him, let the days pass by until we have shed our decaying skins and let new blossoms begin to grow, right? It hurts too much to be without him and it feels like I am setting myself up for epic pain if I stay with him. He wants others? He wants no other? He has said both of these things. I am ashamed of myself for the things I have done wrong, the most unlovable parts of myself, although until last night I trusted his love completely. I think just time. Just time will make this better. 10:14 a.m. - 2009-05-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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