2001-02-18 - 19:41:27

I shouldn’t have come here. I should have known that. After two months it was bound to be difficult. Perhaps deep down I did know and that’s why it took 3 attempts to actually make it back to this place. So I’m here now. I’ve made it all the way to 8:30pm on the first day and my feet long to run me so far away that I might never be able to return. Its not the people, God knows I love Mom and Dad dearly. They’ve been nothing but hospitable and loving and I know they want me here. But the place is haunted. Every detail of coming here is haunted with memories from the past. In this conflicted and hurting time for me, the closeness of these memories threatens to drive me over the edge. I push back the tears. They cannot see, they have enough to worry about. If I truly explained all of it they would feel burdened to fix my life and that is not what it is about. As it is mom keeps saying she hates to see me so depressed. She keeps offering to listen and give advice. I’ve told her what I can, more than I should already. She has enough to worry about. She has too much to worry about. She needs to think that everything is fine and wonderful in her daughter’s life, she needs to conserve her energy to heal herself.

Mom suffers, every day she suffers. Some odd medical anomaly where the nerves in her face let off random electronic pulses which torture her muscles. No one seems to know an answer and the pain taunts her daily. She won’t admit it, she won’t slow down or stop for even a moment’s rest. She has to save everyone.

Dad suffers too. Long years of hard work have taken their toll on his body. The scoliosis has him sleeping in a chair in the living room. The arthritis torments him. Yet every day he faces the cold and spends 12 hours working away.

So you see, they have their own burdens. Their physical ailments are only the beginning. If that weren’t enough, they both know that they have my grandparents to take care of. The alzheimers, the cancer, the pain. Its all there at the end of their days for them to face. The long term prospects are hard to deal with. They take care of everyone, including myself.

So I’m here. The realities of my thoughts I cannot fully reveal and the memories around me I cannot admit to the way they hurt. Quivas is far away. Worshipping and paying homage to his “square headed mistress” and Shakespeare…he’s off with the one he’ll always love. I can’t compete. In aloneness I sit. I wallow.

I tried to wish Shakespeare a good night. I couldn’t find the words. I hate that she gets his love, his time, his sweet embrace. She was the one that threw it away. She owns him. I hate it. Funny I don’t really hate it. I only long for it. I could never take it from her and yet I long to. I can’t even hate her though the deepest depths of my soul tell me I should. She has the child….mine were ripped from my arms two years ago. She has the love….the love I have never and will never possess. She has the spirit and the heart….those I too possess but from this moment on... I swear with everything that I am I will let that fire burn out. I will squash it until it burns at barely a flicker…until it is unrecognizable, until there is too little left for it to burn again. I swear.

The fire has burned bright for 22 years. IT has served only to burn me. To burn me until I cannot recognize what is has left me with. The pain burns on and on and I won't let it anymore. Letting it burn out means losing who I am but I think i've already lost that. I don't know anymore. I've lost the urge to figure it out.

Sleep has been my refuge for 2 days now. Let it be forever my refuge. Let monotony and boredom set in and be my constant companions. They cannot hurt me. Only in them will the fire burn out and the pain cease. Contentment is over rated and happiness eludes me.

Goodbye sweet flame.