Definately what's in the cards for today. For yesterday. The day before. & even the day before that.
Getting your heart broken by a woman when you too are a woman, there is a tantamount of difference in this versus getting your heart broken by the opposite sex. You feel, I dunno, betrayed by your own kind? Like you are of the Fallen or some shit. And hey, I have no qualms with being Of the Fallen, okay? Let's get that straight right here and now, but the sting of that rejection, you just can't walk away from it without feeling like you've lost one of your more important playing cards.
I mean I coveted this bitch, like, for what seems like, an Eternity? I wooed her, allowed her to transcend my imaginings nightly, daily, for very many years. I secretly sweated her namesake into the fabrics of my sleeping quarters. She fucking had me by the balls for so many years.
Put plain & simply, I was her Bitch. Her real live Bitch. & I wanted to be her Bitch. I took pride in that. Boldly. Beautifully. Elegantly. I was the Right Hand to this Throne of Nonsense. But after so many years of being away from that elemental, like 15 years to be exact?
Well, I had time away to think about a lot of shit. I was safe from the bewitching of Green Eyes & the Joker's Sneer. Innocence mingled with Chaos was no longer a friend of mine. I let her go, for other things. Better things. Red Manes of Destruction with the cold hard steele of Blue Eyes & Virtue to take precedence over the things I once sought out to be grand entrance. Minotaurs that look like Iguanas when they slumber, with chocolate brown eyes & a desire not to fuck me on a first date had shown me; not just told me,
THAT IT WAS OKAY TO NOT BE A MARTYR.
After years of washing myself completely of this s'posed Bitch Mentality, I thought I was strong enough. Brave enough to wield the power that she once had over me. I thought things could be 'different'.
Maybe one day, but today ain't that fukkin day Jests & Squires.
I feel the Dull Flame of Desire; for things no longer plausible.
There should be more pain, but there is not. I want it, knowing I can no longer possess it, that she can no longer possess me, but it is like that of a passion long burning, the flame catching it's death, it's wear and tear of shining brightly for so goddamn long.
The Blanket of this Nebula has long misguided me.
It has been replaced with the Harmony of Flesh-Fashioned Passion that walks in the Name of the Fey; & Blue Eyed Virtue that spits Fire from Her Mane.
I need not the sting of her pain to realize that...
that I am...
She says she "has done nothing but open her heart to me...All her life thats all she has shown me was her love and some how I manage to break her heart time and time again!!"
I tell you what audience.
I will be going as "The Girl Who Could Never Do Wrong" for Hallow's Eve.