It's the ELEVENTH of December already and
I's still here...
One more day to go and I have met my personal
Nudge dare...Will I make it? There's no rhymn or reason to what I have come up with so far.
Nudge takes over me and you get what you get. So will Nudge stand up under the final hours and minutes?
Forgiveness is such a simple English word...even though it is a lot more than four letters long. Actually it's eleven...hmmm today is the eleventh of December and this word has eleven letters. Prophetic?
Eleven little letters, lined in a row, blended to form an idea destined for emotions now stirred, that make it so very hard to let the pain go.
Who came up with the concept of it? Do you think they knew the monumental tasks this word requires a person wade through before coming out the other end, bloodied from the battle?
Memories consumed me.
Tears rush to fill these throbbing eyes, while blood thunders through my veins. Normally I do not feel my circulatory system, but "normal" flew out the window the moment you arrived and asked for forgiveness.
Shaking my head, not in negation, but conufsion and something else, I try to wade through it. I gave you my trust...I gave you my all. You took what I had, then tore me apart, through a betryal so deep, I'm not sure if I exist any more. Did I die, or does it just feel like I did?
You stand here, all these years later and ask forgiveness from my vanquished soul, and that trust be returned as if all shiny and new. How can I do that? Every time I see me in your eyes, I see the reflection of the fool who gave all her love and innocence to you.
I see your contrition, and the creases of your anguish, but tell me, how do I find the rainbows again? How do I open myself to the world with trust when every breath I take reminds me of this razor sharp pain? You reduced me and my love to nothing more than a mere moment of lust.
Forgiveness. The word rolls so easily from your lips I wonder if you fully understand how deep the word must travel to find the center of the hurt you inflicted? How else was I to survive?
Love truly is a a double bladed thing, honed upon the leather of the strop, and truth a rule that is filled with the essence of gold. You gave me the blade but not the truth, so I doubt you really cared.
Here is my truth, the only truth I can find...Forgiving you would be the easist part of all of this, or at least I'd like to think it would, if, that is, I could find it within my heart, to first forgive the fool, that's me.
Thank you again for your visit, and I wish you all the best Christmas and New Year.