Feather

i almost yank yesterday’s post, feeling it too revealing and too whiney, but i am away all day without computer access so it stays. i tend to be a very private person, crafting all sorts of curtains and armor and masks to hide behind. when other people console me, when they commiserate or empathize with me, southern hospitality being what it is, i feel the need to take care of them, and sometimes that takes more energy than i can spare. plus more times than i can count, i’ve had somebody take my words and fashion them into a weapon used against me. it’s never right away, mind you, always down the road, giving me whiplash from being jerked back in time so abruptly and stinging like hell to have my pain used to inflict more pain.

so i just keep to myself.

thank y’all for your loving comments. i have the best friends ever.

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we clean out his office today. he doesn’t want to, but thinking that it’ll be easier to go in when nobody is there, i rather insist. plus i just want it behind both of us. being an imaginative woman who has a tendency to be very protective of loved ones, i stand before you and admit that i fantasize about trashing the office. about slashing the chair of his friend, the only one above him in the hierarchy of power and responsibility, the one who sent a henchman to deliver the message of imposted parting, the man who stayed away from the office the entire day on wednesday to avoid having to deal with the unpleasantness, the man who hasn’t so much as sent an email from one friend to another. but i don’t. we don’t. don’t slash or trash, just take what rightly belongs to him, turn the alarm on, lock the door, and head for home. it’s a relief, not having to drag that dread around like a ship’s anchor tied round our necks.

there’s just one more thing i want to do tomorrow, then we are free to direct our imaginations to what might – or will – become.

p.s. we stop for some celebratory chocolate on the way home. only seems right.