Saturday, October 14, 2017

Snake in a cave

What do we want other than to know and be known? And isn't love just exactly that feeling that we at least want to know the other and be known by them?

What hurts more than someone's turning their back? I cannot think of anything that hurts me more than isolation.

Sometimes you are talking and hear your own voice. And you know that you are alone, even though someone is listening to you. Or seems to be listening. Or is there.


Tomorrow, I have to discuss my child, my baby, with her mother. She won't be listening. She'll only be looking for angles to win, to crush, to hurt me.

I do wish it wasn't like that. I have been feeling more whole but it's not likely I will walk away from that feeling better about myself. I need to show a lot of discipline to keep emotion from controlling me, to stay rigid and focused.

It used to be natural to be with her.


And what hurts the most is she lies. No, that isn't the worst. What has hurt me more is to tell the truth to myself about her. To realise who she is and what she has been doing.

What hurts the most is I tell the truth. And sometimes it's like a snake in a cave; it only unravels itself slowly and you only see pieces at a time. Until there it is, the whole thing, laid out for you to examine.

I wish I would hear an honest answer if I asked, Can you live with who you are and what you've done? I wish she had not damaged everything I thought I knew about her.

Because I know about me. If you lie about me, I know that you are lying. If you tell the truth, I know it too.


There is nothing worse than not to be deluded. To have learned about yourself. Even if you only learn about yourself in pieces. And I know I haven't liked all the pieces. Any of the pieces.


It hurts that I still love her.