For nearly eight months of my life, I stowed an existential part of me away.
I shoveled it far beneath the earth, disguising even to myself the looming terror of the ancient wrath of the God I had just disowned.
Sitting somberly and abandoned in a file- my precious secret that I did not dare erase.
Am I allowing my mind to protect me once again- ignoring how I rejected the truth of my life all that time so wretchedly?
Or has the righteousness of a soulmate once again saved me from the black hole I created?
It is the single most unfair situation to him- I am unrelentingly selfish and he has no say in the matter.
When will I get what I deserve?
I want it, yet I am terrified of how severe it should be.
I had always believed that there aren’t any non-abusive people who deserve trauma- but what else could hurt me the way I’ve maimed and ravaged?
How can you hope to fix someone who was born with evil?
And how can the demon love someone so purely?
Not without tricks and deception, of course- mostly at its own expense.
And some profound remorse, but not nearly enough.
I’m worn from the bleeding brought on by the blows of my double-edged sword.
I deserved to lose him and wither away mercilessly.
Selfish as I am, perhaps my mind is indeed creating the grand delusion of true love to avoid what would be its worst rival of being without him.