The Hidden Resistance

His image in my mind's eye is fading, the geography of his body my hands can no longer remember, the melody of his voice now foreign to my ears and the loving words once too quick to depart from my lips seem child's play from this throne I now sit. For no good reason I try to remember, to recall the memories, to find the nostalgic girl so in love with him but all efforts are futile, the last goodbye relieved me from the burden of guilt I had been carrying.and opened my eyes to the truth in my heart..I hadn't been fighting for his love, I was trying to convince myself that I still loved him, when the reality was far simpler: I was addicted to the pain he so easily laid on my doorstep.

For months I declared this love, named it infinite and perfect, I played the part in the theater of us. I wanted so hard to make it work, but so many times what seems perfect on paper dwindles when spoken. And so this love of mine was the stuff of novels, but my life is not divided into chapters, has no clear cut villains, he was no prince charming and I am no damsel in distress. My life is all the shades between the black of the ink and the white of the paper, and our love faded in the greys.

As I flick through the pictures of us, of him, all the unspoken doubts I had hidden in my heart begin to speak to me, it really was not meant to be. We had built a world made up of cards and we can't spend the rest of our lives holding our breath fearing the collapse of a fantasy. It was doomed from the moment we laid eyes on each other, both of us fighting to believe this love was it but we were killing it with every touch, every kiss a death sentence. We found solace in our words, we made ourselves believe in such words. We were both to blame in this folly, my eyes can now see.

Now that the bitter taste in my mouth is gone, exiled by this new flavour, not quite sweet not quite sour but something in between and more, I find meaning in all of this, it is still raw, it has not set its roots in my mind, it is the shadow in the corner of my eye, it is still being written...