Poetic Apologies
I’m sorry to all of you.
I wonder if, with time, this bungled mess of a disjointed narrative will become more. Will the emotion of it all be tempered with time and distance? Though, as I have stated, love need not be fast or close to exist, emotion is a different force altogether. It is as if love is a solid, unmoving foundation with pillars deep in the ground and all of this fire and neurochemical euphoria rises and swirls like some ethereal cathedral of passion. Sometimes rising, sometimes diminishing, always present.
Many years from now —will it be decades?!?— can I look back to that final salvo of your anger and feel less desperate and diminished for my recklessness? Less heart-flayed at my disloyal, non-thinking selfishness? Letting those spires of emotion be consumed in a conflagration of bottled up, mis-placed passion? All the while I stood back, holding a torch lit by the warm glow of my traitorous heart. The source of all of this collapse.
No wonder Jehovah is love personified. That pure and principled quality can and will bear anything. Time will see it bear this failure and find success somewhere in the wreckage. Some precious thing rendered to a pure state with the dross boiled away.