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by ghoti Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Draft · Gothic · #961405
Everyone has their sob story. Here is mine.
I move to open a photo album in my mind. The one that is locked. It is not for nostalgia that I want to unlock its pages. Sometimes something small and insignificant can cause a crack within the dam that separates the past from the present. It is always surprising how quickly that crack can grow into an overwhelming flood.
As soon as I turn the key, a terrible tempest unleashes from the book. The tempest throws me about the walls of my skull. I go around and around as the tempest rages while the album remains the calm eye of the storm. Just as quickly as the tempest attacked, it recedes back into the album, dragging me along.
Events experienced long ago will always retain their pristine form which we use for future comparison. Nothing will be as good as it once was. You'll never be as happy as you once were. Love will never again be pure after you first experience it, and just like the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge it can never be undone.
I long for the day when I'm greeted by amnesia. Until then, I'll have to cope with the festering disease that is memory.
Memory of a bright starlit night. All of the countless stars fade into the darkness with the approach of the beautiful moon. She seemed so close that I could touch her. Intimidated by her beauty, I hesitated.
Is the moon getting smaller? No, the once-firm-ground has turned into a mire. I'm sinking! I stretch my arms to the moon begging for her help. What am I thinking? It's just a moon. A celestial being with a whole universe to seduce her gaze. With no help forthcoming, I shed a few tears while I'm swallowed. I feel like being somewhere dark now.
It is cold and wet and dark inside the swamp. I can feel the bottom-feeders nibbling strand of my hair. It seems that I'm here for hours. Plenty of time to playback the 'incident' and admonish myself for all 2,000 of my tiny flaws.
A soft techno beat wakes me from this revelry. I look beyond my feet to see a faint blue light. As I descend, the light gets brighter and the music crescendos to the point I wonder if my ears are bleeding.
The swamp vomits me out onto the dance floor of some industrial club. No one seems to notice my entrance or the swamp that has now disappeared leaving a flopping fish as the sole trace that the swamp ever existed.
Once my eyes adjusted, I saw that the club was filled with conjoined twin except each pair consisted of opposing genders thus technically not making them twins at all. These people were fawning over their twins as if they were born with their soul-mate attached on the other's hip. None of them, not once ever felt the pain of being alone.
God, how I wanted to break the two apart! Their happiness brought me so much pain, and they were very happy. I rationalize against my previous idea. How selfish can one person get? Destroy the happiness of other just to show them what I am feeling? No, I can't do that.
Two by two, the couples turn their gaze at me. The music stops. Then the whole crowd laughs at me. Even the flopping fish seems to laugh at me. Here I was the freak show. Where was the swamp when you want it?
I walked out of the club with my head down. I felt like being somewhere dark. Turning down an alley, I found a dead heroin addict. From him I took several strands of long hair and broke off the rusty needle from his syringe. I used these two items to sow both of my eyes shut so that I can never be seduced by desire again.
I sow my mouth shut so that I'll never again taste the fruits from the tree.
Slowly my skin thicken and grew barbs. It became a suit of armor to prevent people from getting close enough to hurt me. The only chink in the armor were my hands in case one day I would need to let someone in.
I close the photo album. I wonder if I will ever be rid of my burden. While I wait for release, I'll bury that album down deep within me.
Unrequited love - it is a term for fools who are too stubborn to settle and too cowardly to act. And, I am the biggest fool of them all.
© Copyright 2005 ghoti (ghoti at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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