Secrets in Lace

Monday, May 25, 2015

Falling Out of Love.

Spare my little girl, Jesus.

Constance 'Dusty' Miller

Falling out of love is the worst.

There’s this empty pit in the bottom of your stomach.

All that was once good, all that once helped to make life worth living, all that made life, my life, bearable, has turned to ashes.

The taste is bitter in the mouth.

All joy, all reason for living is gone.

There is still the piglet.

She’s all I’ve got and when I look at her my heart just aches.

What kind of world will she grow up in?

What would happen to her if I was gone?

There are times when I lean on her way too hard, and she is so young. She is the spitting image of me at that age and all the loss, all the trauma, that I see, all that I fear for her, all of that is mine. It doesn't belong to her at all.

It’s all mine. It belongs to no one else, and I have promised myself, desperately, not to saddle her up with all that crap. All that bullshit, and all of those extremely low expectations.

I’ve tried desperately hard to shield and shelter her from all of that. And I know that I will fail, just as all parents ultimately do. We cannot protect them from what life has in store.

It’s going to get them one way or another. It gets all of us in the end, and perhaps there is a kind of justice in that. The proud are humbled and the humble are blessed by a chance to rest, to sleep at last, in the warm bosom of the Earth. And all things return to equal.

We were all created equal, weren’t we? That is the theory, anyway.

She will find her own way, and I don’t even have the right to try and stop her. I cannot warn her of the dangers she faces, tell her about the people she will meet along the way, the things that will happen to her, or surely she would be afraid to try at all.

They get to a certain age, wilful and determined, and we get a clear insight into some of the things that are going to happen to her in this life…

Jesus Fucking Christ, if you can spare my little girl even a smidgeon of the pain I’ve gone through then I will be eternally grateful.

No one can help me with this—no one.

It’s just something that we got to go through.

Hugs, ladies and gentlemen.


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