Schrödinger's Cat and the Devil

        This has been maddening. A mental and emotional seesaw.

I am left feeling awful, and feeling awful about it all; even so, all I can think about, is what is it that you think; what is it that happened; what is it that happened for things to get to such a place? I still think and feel about it as if it's Schrödinger's cat. It's both dead and alive at the same time. I feel ridiculous to think of it as even remotely alive, when this seems to have been all about death...

I've been tired for such a long time, but I feel you never heard me.

I feel that every time I tried to extend an olive branch, you pushed me away with silence. I constantly fought with myself. I constantly fought with myself over many things. I constantly fought with myself to not succumb and leave you to the Devil, but for how long am I supposed to fight that fight? It's not that I was drawn, but that I wanted to. I wanted to so bad, because it meant my torture would be over. For how long am I supposed to fight that fight, and how am I supposed to win that fight from the space I've been in?

I know you're not a bad person, even so, I feel you've been nothing, but awful to me.

I loved you sincerely, but now I feel the best I can do for myself is to leave you to the Devil in my story.

**

I genuinely do. I know you're not. Love and Fear are two sides of the same coin. 

**

I keep trying to ascertain how I truly feel. One moment, I am tempted to say it's in the past. The next, it is very much present and alive.

When I imagine you didn't hurt me, when I imagine you were merely a trigger for feelings that were mine and mine alone—just as I was a trigger for feelings that were yours and yours alone—my love is alive and profound. It moves like light rather than fire.

When I imagine the cruelty I felt was not born from malice but from misguided humanness—trapped, unconscious, unaware—I feel pain, and my love stops flowing as freely. But it is still there. I can still see it. It is alive.

When I imagine the cruelty I felt was the result of neglect, indifference, lack of consideration for another human being's life—love smolders, struggling for air, wanting to die. But even then, it's there, even if I barely see it.

Love is always there. It's only the expression of Love that's changed. It can either be a calm flame of light, or stay hidden awaiting to erupt - like lava beneath the surface. 

What do I hope for? Do I dare hope? Reality coming full circle would be sweet, but I am not the fool you mistook me for.

I am not too trusting. I am not blind. I am not too understanding.

I took a leap of faith.

Because I loved. Because I love.