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THE LIBER OF FIRE AND LIGHTA Dual-Epic of Betrayal and Reclamation

THE LIBER OF FIRE AND LIGHT
A Dual-Epic of Betrayal and Reclamation

I. THE NIGHT OF BETRAYAL
How do you sleep at night?
How do you move about your day?
What do you do when I cross your mind?
What do you do when you think about everything that transpired?
What do you do when you think about cutting me out?
What do you think about?
What do you feel when you think about the cut that you gave me so deep to the very core of my being and left it there in silence to fester?
Do you feel proud of yourself?
Do you feel relieved?
Do you feel sad?
Do you feel anything at all?
Do you wonder about me?
Does any of that truly matter when a wound is deep as you cut with intention, with deliberation, with malice?
Where is there to go from there?
Have you not already spoken in your silence and in your actions?
What does it feel like to toss away fourteen years?
What does it feel like to walk away?
What does it feel like to leave another standing in silence?
What does it say about the man who made vows who betrayed them?
Are you the man you wanted to be?
Are you the man you thought you are?
You thought you would be?
Is this the man you want to be?

II. THE NIGHT OF ABSENCE
I used to sleep not at all, or wake up crying and screaming because of the loneliness, the absence of you.
I used to sit and think of nothing but you.
I used to think of you when I first woke up, and when I first went to bed.
I think of you everywhere, in everything, in all the places and things we have done—the lives we’ve touched, the lives that touched us.
The stores where we shopped, the people we hung out with, the family we once called family.
All of this would rip me even further.
Every day was a deeper cut.
Every night excruciating pain, as if someone was deliberately pouring salt and rubbing it in.

III. THE WOUND HELD
What do I do with a wound that would have been easily healed but was intentionally withheld the medicine to heal it?
What do I do with a wound that has taken this long to stop aching, non-stop?

IV. THE TURNING
Now that it is finally starting to close, and heal, I find myself somewhere else.
With the pain subsiding, I find myself believing in a brighter, happier time, away from here, away from where we were, away from the us.

V. THE DREAMING
I dream of dating, of holding another man’s hand, of his kiss electrifying me, of his arms around me.
I dream of shared dinners and mornings, the honeys, the babes, the darling, the lover.
I dream of success for myself and another. I dream of color, of beauty, of wonder, of joy.

VI. THE RETURN TO BREATH
I find myself breathing lighter, happier, more connected, after being so disconnected.
I find myself unwilling to bend for that which does not increase or support me.
I find myself setting the limit of how much I will give with nothing in return.
I find myself demanding to be chosen over kept, seen over forgotten.

VII. THE NEW COVENANT
I dream of the man who I will wake up next to, that does not disappear in the night, that does not leave me for other men, does not manipulate me into waiting, that doesn’t sneak about, and then call me crazy, or unreasonable, or controlling, just because I want to know where he’s at, that he’s okay, and when to expect him.

VIII. THE REVELATION
It’s crazy that I just dream about a reasonable, normal interaction.
How mundane I’ve become, how okay with stillness I have become.

IX. THE IMMOVABLE THRONE
I have become immovable for those who do not place value in my presence by granting me their presence.
I no longer arrive just because. I only arrive because you’ve shown me that I matter.

X. THE FINAL AFFIRMATION
That is what I dream of.
That is what I demand.
That is what I think about.
Well, forgetting the past—not its lessons, just the story that turned out to be nothing in the end.

FINIS

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