A Rose-Colored Saga

 

Fear had taken my heart, 

   and strung it up so

 In such a way, that when love shown it's face, 

  I actively removed all caution tape;

Red flags, street swept to the curb. 

    I....

Did not know...

  What I was getting into. 

No....I had no REAL idea...

  But when it started to rear its beastly head...

      I attempted to tame 

   What I would find an impossible conquest. 

It was not that...

   I did not love him. 

It was...

  That I did. 

  and fear and disappointment...

  and loneliness...

  They all led me into the intimacy of his arms. 

Our past was so full. My disdain had been for so long. 

Yet, who showed up upon my door...

  Was somebody that knew me... 

     and somebody different than the boy I knew. 

  

The fear was.... my mother. 

  He took care of her so well...

       and I was fleeing the legion of low-level demons she had always teamed our den with. 

He took care of me. 

He fed me.  Too often. 

He understood my headaches. 

He valued my rest.  

And he took on the world to prove he loved me...

It would have been perfect, 

    Accept for the fact that... 

 It never was. 

He promised me before our (second) first kiss...

   He promised me that he would not hurt me. 

I believed him. I could tell, he sincerely meant it. 

But he did, hurt me. 

   In ways I had never wanted to experience again, his disappointments became ceaseless and dramatic fits... 

  That slowly would raise bars around me...

     Before yet long having realized, 

He had built a cage. 

  I let a lot slide. 

      Because we made it work. 

           And at what expense? Often had it been my soul. 

My stamina. 

My health. 

My freedom. 

My passions. 

So much actually...

    Became a price I never meant to bargain for. 

I knew after a while...

    That it was fear that was keeping me just as bound to him....

  As was it love. 

And when the last dagger befell me...

    It was already dozens too many anyhow.

So....it...

  Went away. That kind of love I had for him before. 

He abused it into pure anger. 

Bruised it into constant resentment of his chosen character. 

He calloused my soul. 

   and my heart. 

and he showed me...

   That I WAS worth fighting for. 

Because he was. 

  And so am I.