I am still haunted by him. The monster I allowed into my life. I have been telling people stories of my past again-sharing too much, too fast. Why do I do that? I don’t think people want to know all the gory details, especially when they have just met me-but there I go, spilling all my guts again. And even as I tell the horrors I am thinking that I hate myself for talking too much. I hate myself for not protecting the little girl inside. Why didn’t I protect her? Why didn’t my Mom protect me, when I was a little child and the monsters came? Wasn’t I worth it? And now, do I believe that lie-even after 15 years away from any physical abuse? Why did I have to be the one to stay here, caring for this Ogre? Didn’t I deserve a life? I gave myself a life sentence, and everyone thinks I am so self-sacrificing, so loving to have cared for my aging, dying parents. No- I have chained myself to the whipping post, and now the demons of the past are here to flog me. May my God please help me, till this darkness passes.
I loved a man who had eyes as green as emeralds, and a heart black as darkest night…why do I wonder where he is tonight? Is he alive tonight? Is he still plotting, hating, and obsessing?
Or is it just me, with eyes as green as emeralds, and sadness like the deep blue sea?