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A tribute to my ex, one probably not clear. |
Dangerous? Oh, my, Yes, she was. I studied social skills because I was a total dork. She studied ethics because... um... Gentle. Quiet. And rules--too, too many rules "Good men don't need rules..." And, No, Doctor/Pepper-Potts, I don't care to find out why you had so many. "You're doing it to yourself you know." I had ignored all the warnings, I admit, But--in the way she meant? No. The things she could do ... Even from three states away... mind blowing. So sweet but... good people? They don't teach their kids to do that. You can't--not from inside the lighted city--good people just...we? They. They don't know how. A pied piper, a dark enchantress. Witchcraft--wicked witchcraft... "There's something wrong there." Tchya. A man's supposed to say, "You don't want me to be happy." I met their gaze and said, "And what do you want me to do about it?" Never thought I'd come back whole. lucky to end up in her freezer. I knew it would never be her in there. ... Never really a joke. Even I knew that. (Maybe a plea for mercy?) But, like the Doctor said, "Sometimes you let one go." Would have liked to've known her, seen beyond her mask-- that beloved mystery that never saw a boundary she respected. that lovebombing, grooming, trafficking, negging enchantress that somehow, by some strange alchemy, left me more whole than she found me. |