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Library: The Finger, Having Outgrown the Lies of a Bitter Man
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Author: merja
Date:Feb 4 2007
Having outgrown the lies we tell ourselves to keep ourselves afloat. I saw you
the other day, and you were with another girl. She was not what I'd consider
beautiful, being on the verge of a well-rounded sized person, but surely a
safe harbour for your delicate little soul. I had to ask myself, is that you?
I had to ask my friend, is that really him? I didn't recognise you for a
moment, so long have you been absent from my eyes. So hard have I tried to
leave you in your denial of love. It is true, you are dead. Your beauty is
that of a stunted toad, no longer do I see my own heart when I see you. No
longer do I desire to see your beautiful smile, or to touch your soft skin, or
hear your soothing voice singing as you strum your guitar. No longer do I
desire to give you the gifts of my heart. No longer do I wish to view your
countenance. Instead I felt my fork lift itself and point in your direction;
sharp daggers, she said, shot from my eyes and into the realisation of you
from several meters away. What an ugly thing you have become, and I ask
myself, to what do I owe this unpleasant taste upon my tongue? To what end can
I forget the experience you gave me: intentional pain of being a thwarted,
discarded lover? Peace to the heart that is truer to itself than mine has been
to you. Behind you, the moon, it casts a shadow during the day and when the
shadows have gone, my heart says goodbye to yours forever and an eternity. May
we never meet again, for my path has already been crossed one too many times
by a bitter man such as yourself, unable to love anything beyond himself. You
I can define with just one finger.
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