I have nobody to rage against, no one to blame, I did this to myself, and far worse to others. I cheated. It was mostly in the friendship brewed over tea, pints and vodka. The betrayal was in the words weaved during hours of talking. The couple of stolen kisses were nothing against what I let grow in the spaces between those words, and our silences. I don't know what it is; even though the echoes of those words started an avalanche of pain, I'm glad I had it.
Those words were a catalyst not a cause, like a light shone on what was brewing between myself and John for a long time. In all my effort to stay strong I forgot how to be vulnerable; you need to show your underbelly before you can be tickled. In my strength I found hardness and solitude, and forgot how to find my way back to him. He is the best man I've ever known, I don't know how I am doing this, in the pain I can barely remember why. But I need to listen to that voice, it's been talking to me for such a long time, mostly ignored, bottled up, and left go sour.
Oh you dancing boy, you towering rainmaker, now you follow your boot shod feet over the sea and leave me to this bed I made, that I must lay in.
Oh you stoical man, I found your tears after all this time, you offered me forgiveness, friendship and love, and I gave you truthful uncertainty and a freedom that you do not want. Over six years we weaved and sewed our lives together, now we must pick them apart thread by thread, I will be gentle my love, I will take care.
So here I stand, off balance, off kilter, the world askew, I have cut off my leg to save the patient. I will learn to walk again, I will, but I don't want to. I want to huddle in my brushed cotton sheets savouring his fading smell. But that voice will gather me up, it led me to this point and I have to trust it knows the way out of these tangled sheets.