Apr 2014
I
Vengeance never made much sense to me. Then again neither did apathy but both have managed to find me from time to time. I've felt my skin peel and molt when I least expected it to and I've heard the sound of resounding wolves calling from the days I often swore to leave behind.
So long I've fought to be anything but the crumbling ruins I've admired from afar. I'm asking. Begging. Now. For you to let me be the dust storm I've become.
Quiet in my controlled passions. Many have asked passion of me when I knew better than to give it freely and I owe that to my own resolve and all the things you taught me unintentionally.
I've let you believe, and let you live so long, thinking I was much less than I've long since learned to be but its getting hard to watch the sky change when I know I've loved the sunset much more than I've regretted missing the dawn.
I can't tell you all the things that shaped me, all the minor heartbreaks that brought me to, because so many have and would have broken you too.
II**
The hardest part of loving the children you knew is admitting they've become so much more than you. I'm asking now, I know no other, no easier, way to show you that you're missing so much of me by asking me to remain free of easy disappointment. I am not perfect but I have tried and am still and I am far smarter than you'd likely admit and I've overcome some things you still find struggle in.
I have been cursed with an unrelenting empathy that's built in me a patient wisdom that is more often than not beyond my recollection. But more than that I wish this could be enough for you. But I know change breeds disappointment and before I can see the sun you'll have ripped it from the sky and put it farther beyond my reach.
Left to my own devices I've made the right choices and I've rarely faltered when I had the right and opportunity to fall. Tears breed misery and I've never shed anything the winds of my storm couldn't gather back to me.
All the same I'm asking now, for the first time, for you to let me be. Without condescension. Without disapproval or dismay. I'm begging you. Now. To finally let me be the person you're afraid of.
The person you should be proud of.
Vengeance never made much sense to me. Then again neither did apathy but both have managed to find me from time to time. I've felt my skin peel and molt when I least expected it to and I've heard the sound of resounding wolves calling from the days I often swore to leave behind.
So long I've fought to be anything but the crumbling ruins I've admired from afar. I'm asking. Begging. Now. For you to let me be the dust storm I've become.
Quiet in my controlled passions. Many have asked passion of me when I knew better than to give it freely and I owe that to my own resolve and all the things you taught me unintentionally.
I've let you believe, and let you live so long, thinking I was much less than I've long since learned to be but its getting hard to watch the sky change when I know I've loved the sunset much more than I've regretted missing the dawn.
I can't tell you all the things that shaped me, all the minor heartbreaks that brought me to, because so many have and would have broken you too.
II**
The hardest part of loving the children you knew is admitting they've become so much more than you. I'm asking now, I know no other, no easier, way to show you that you're missing so much of me by asking me to remain free of easy disappointment. I am not perfect but I have tried and am still and I am far smarter than you'd likely admit and I've overcome some things you still find struggle in.
I have been cursed with an unrelenting empathy that's built in me a patient wisdom that is more often than not beyond my recollection. But more than that I wish this could be enough for you. But I know change breeds disappointment and before I can see the sun you'll have ripped it from the sky and put it farther beyond my reach.
Left to my own devices I've made the right choices and I've rarely faltered when I had the right and opportunity to fall. Tears breed misery and I've never shed anything the winds of my storm couldn't gather back to me.
All the same I'm asking now, for the first time, for you to let me be. Without condescension. Without disapproval or dismay. I'm begging you. Now. To finally let me be the person you're afraid of.
The person you should be proud of.
