Category: Hyde’s Bride

“He chose me…

And then he just didn’t, anymore.”

“What happened to me, and why.”

He refused to see her symptoms as an indicator that something was wrong – and instead saw them as decreasing her use’s value to him so that she could be more easily discarded.

The trust she had given freely had retracted into severe caution.

“Had she seen how much she and I were alike?

Kindred spirits in how we valued and prized family.

Did she also foresee that I would walk the lonely road for much of my life?”

“I remember the place held such mysteries, and how nature seemed brimming and inviting.

But then, one day many years later, everything seemed flat – and expelled me.”

When he finally opened up to her.

And accepted his explorations, thinking they were natural.

Until she discovered the hidden treachery that had grown beneath everything – which he then put the blame on her for.

“When the ache hurts too much, I need to disconnect because I have learned that by then, I do not really matter.”

I want to hold you close, proud
But you refuse to come around

In every day our love’s wasting
I still rise to meet it, embracing

Unrequietment’s blade cuts deep
Where seek truth left in darkness

She couldn’t even remember the day’s numeric, anymore.

Only that it had seemed to be chosen because it was close to Valentine’s Day and her birthday.

A tidy bundle of dates clustered together in a nice, neat package that he could easily ignore and get away with as a repeated blip in his memory’s system.

Oops, so sorry about that…

But once passed, there’s no going back, right?

So the rest of the year, he’d be ‘home free’ to continue his tireless rejection of her.

He did not view me as capable
So long ago shut down on me

I learned to no longer speak
For it wasn’t polite company

But dreams were in my head
Desires repressed in our bed

Life’s will for creation’s certainty
Kept me growing despite apathy

For that family to later accuse her, when she had always been cautious and careful about asking for anything.

Their matriarch had done what she did for her descendants – and she happened to be a caring and proactively supportive, barely tolerated “bystander,” who only benefited by crumbs’ default!

To capture memories and experiences that have clung – transfering onto this paper?

Will they then leave me alone so that I can be relieved of suffering”?”

He was only a man who had been controlled by his demons.

He had judged her for her values
Condemned her for her curiosity

Resented her cheerful optimism
Negated her proactive inclusivity

And made damn well sure that
She’d struggle to keep anything

She had learned to ignore those who had ignored her.

She just stopped talking.

Having been cast off in her prime for “doing everything right” made her deeply worry that anyone would value and stay with her through her mid and later years.

She thought about how when she was a child, her mother’s Great Danes used to tower above her small form as a child,

It used to feel like she was protected by the gentle giants as they ranged and roamed around her, so she could let her guard down.

Now that her mother had ‘upgraded’ to even larger hounds, she experienced feeling safe like a child again whenever she got back for a visit.

“But I am just going to say it.

I used the upstairs public bathroom yesterday to avoid the smells of extreme circumstantial use by the homeless downstairs.

But then I was trapped upstairs in a smaller bathroom, unsure what was happening in the stall two doors over with two people engaged in longterm shuffling, groaning, and whispering.

People in desperate need find places to do things that the average people still trying to mask as ‘normal’ try to avoid if and when at all possible.

That’s me, for sure.

Don’t involve me.

Please, please, please – and definitely not directly.

If I cannot help, it is a torment to expose me.

Being wired to extreme empathy as a healer tells me too much information about smells and needs for sanitary assistance not being properly tended to.

What happened next was that the entire room suddenly became flooded to choking with one of the worst smells of long-baked unwashery that I have ever encountered.

I could not help but quickly (though quietly) scramble-fumble out of my stall and stuffing my face into my jacket just to be able to breath as I fled the bathroom for likely the first time ever not washing my hands.

I beelined, instead, to where I knew that I could find a courtesy sterile wipe and tissue by the clerk’s desk.

Reflecting back upon the maintenance care needed for that person being helped to use the bathroom – and clearly not being tended to consistently – threatened to send me into a despair cycle that I am still trying to dodge and out-distance on this second day returning for help with my paperwork.

I have since been having difficulty subduing a type of deep keening inside – for that person, for me, and for our society barely hinging on the brink of unnecessary and wasteful political disasters.”

They think it very rude in “polite company” to speak of the horrific truths that occur when a human gets stripped of the decent basics.

To get lice from a chair?

Being in the library, she encountered those left behind, and it was so very hard to find herself also in that category – although she still fought off looking the part.

She had done all and more to ensure that others were protected, and now with her injuries, the cold wind into her coat often felt sharper.

And she could often feel within her just under the surface a high keening of mourning worry.

She was afraid to let someone in because she had been so picked apart by past men.