The darkest part of any day is before the sun rises.  What about for those who still can’t see the sun?

I woke up from unsettled sleep, once again, in the darkness.  I looked around once again, and felt the stinging reality of being alone, another day starting without you.  I check my phone, like the addict I am, hoping for a crumb.  I really do admire your resolve.  The messages begin, it’s not you.  The other, whose role in my life will always be defined.  The banter is back and forth and the insults start, and the pain cradles me like a fleece lined blanket.  Chaos.  He shows up like a hawk, circling his prey and I lie there weak and broken, waiting for the next strike.  I’m no victim here, I volunteered for it.  I stood there many years ago in front of God and all His people and said the words.  I allow him to take the pound of flesh he feels he’s owed, not out of martyrdom, but out of weakness and guilt for choosing you above all things I held so close.

I’ve grown stronger since you left, I no longer speak your name out loud.  I still keep you in my mind, the most dangerous place to exist these days.  And as days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, I still hold you here among the broken bits of my heart and fractured soul.  The other tells me he’s incredibly happy and has moved on, but still managed to find a place in my bed one morning.  I volunteered my body for a few moments of escape, imagining your hands upon me once again.  For a brief second I felt you, I closed my eyes and inagined you looking at me.  In that moment, I was content with dying in that illusion.  I opened my eyes, and real life flooded back in.  The exctasy in dying  would havs been a welcome relief to the daily hell I endure.  

The sick part about all of this, is neither him nor you want me.  Promises made, promises broken.  Lies stacked upon half truths are a recipe for disaster, and all of us know that.  There is no foundation or future to have on lies!   It isn’t you that feigns excuses to come to my door, or sends messages to instigate a war, you sit in your corner if the world in the silence you keep.  I hear you.  It keeps me up in the darkest hours before the sun rises for the normal folks, it keeps me satiated for my addiction to chaos… It keeps me wondering and slowly fading between the real and the delusion.  

One day, I’d like to see the sun. I’d like to be held and loved among the whole truth that is me as a perfectly broken woman and not with concessions.  Someday I will see the sun and welcome it, like I welcome the storm.


One thought on “Volunteer

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