The Phoenix

Two years short of a decade, I finally decide to burn your letters. Your photos. Our transcribed text messages. My cathartic ramblings on yellowed sheets. Envelopes with scribbled endearments of what I once was to you. 

But who was I to you really? I never really mattered, save for that one more notch on your bedpost. One more bragging right. Another trophy in your collection of so-called trophies. Feelings are reduced to the longing between your loins--I was just another project. Someone you tried to change just because I had an inclination for the same gender. Someone you tried to brand for the sake of marking unknown territory.

And yet I was too damn naive and inexperienced to even notice that you had perfectly lain a trap. You had taken advantage of my trust that came almost automatically with innocence. The lamb to the slaughter. You had feigned concern--a wolf in sheep's clothing.

My clothes are burned. My soul to shreds. Slowly I had picked up the pieces of my lost self now forgotten. I was forced to bury my past and move on without seeing that your chains are bearing down on me. I cannot live like this. I don't want to live like this. By allowing your shadow to lurk in the dark recesses of my mind, the scars are taking much longer to heal...I have turned into a landmine. 

I hurt the ones who truly love me. With the same poison you had instilled in my blood, I explode without warning, sending the deadly shrapnel piercing their hearts the same way mine was damaged. Maybe even deeper. Maybe even longer. It's just saddening that the cycle has come this, but, as of today I have resolved to finally let you go. 

I have been suffering long enough. I want my one-shot at happiness. I want to be able to fully live again. To love again. To give my healed heart to someone who truly deserves and treasures it. And I hope that eventually the pain will go away.

As your memories are erased with the last remaining ashes, the urgency to make up for lost time is more paramount than revenge. 

I wish you well.