Reckoning

The bible says that the first one to tell his side of the story sounds right. It then goes on to say that when the second one comes along his side speaks to the truth of the matter. Or something like that. I have to find the actual scripture. The point is that it is easy to take a high ground and claim moral victory when you are the only one telling a side of a story. Even easier when the other party is removed from the situation and has no real interest in being defensive. 

However, at some point the chickens do come home to roost. Gossip is proven to be slander as Wisdom is proven righteous by its works. 

I have always allowed people to gossip about me freely and avidly. I feel that the people that I really care about will pay no heed to the petty and laugh internally, as I do, about how much energy people utilize in their supposition of my world. Here, with me a continent and an ocean away, it seems pretty easy to vilify me. And yet... yet, I still hold the cards. 

I know that the power moves are mine to make. I know the time and date and sequence in which I will make them. I know that the gossipers will be left feeling stupid and speechless; the usual end to the story.  I actually feel sorry for them in advance. They are ruining their credibility. They will choke on the jagged shards of half truths that they have crafted about me as my actions force them swallow their words. Blood dripping off the chin the whole time. 

What a waste of everyone's time. 

The first one to tell his side of the story sounds right. Until Dewberry comes to town. 

Idiots.

A

p.s. Proverbs 18:17 - chalk another one up to a Google Search.

Addiction

It is sharp. 

This feeling you evoke in me. 

Like the smell of blood. 

Making one recoil, pause.

I can't even remember why I want you so badly. Maybe because you feel like home. 

Maybe because I don't have you. 

Maybe because the snippets that I get from you are a balm to  my soul. Always wanting more massage.

I know, without a doubt, that to have you will be nothing but agony. 

An opium addiction that will kill me. 

I needing so bad that it will consume me. You will become my hobby and my passion. 

You will become my colors. The world pausing in gray until you get home. 

I will want nothing but you.

I have never wanted to love like this. 

This searing, this uncontrollable, this uncomfortable, a black hole of a relationship. Sucking the light out of light itself.

And yet here I am. 

So convinced that if I can't have you I will die.

So this is love.

This is terrible.

A