The Park

I saw a couple at the park the other day. It was apparent from their gestures, their joy, that it was new love. It made me happy and sad at the same time.

I recalled when I had felt the way that couple looked like they were feeling. New, pure love is a beautiful thing. I wonder if they know about the darkness. I wonder if that couple will ever see the dark.

My darkness. My inability to love or be loved. My need to sabotage anything real because I do not believe that I deserve anything good and true. 

I'll hurt you before you hurt me. You'll never see the twisted, troubled me because I will push you so far away that you will not be able to find your way back to the me you first met, the joyful me, the me that could love you. 

Let me destroy everything good I have before it destroys me.

Go away.

Leave me alone.

Leave.

WAIT!

I'm sorry. It has been ages since I asked you to leave me. You cried then, but you did not fight against me. 

You did not fight FOR me.

Did you not love me?

Why didn't you grab me?

Why didn't you hold me?

You did not even try and make me see that one day, I would look at every other man and compare them to you. 

I would look at the couple in the park and wonder if that could have been us.

Then, I realized that maybe you didn't fight me because maybe you were relieved to be released from the prison in which I had held you captive. Maybe you wanted to be free and could not find your way out.

That hurts. 

That is relieving to me.

That somehow lets me out of the prison in which I had thrown myself for all the pain I had inflicted on you.

Now, we are both free.

 

Richmond/VA/USA