The Unveiling

There is a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from reaching for someone who is no longer reaching back.

Regardless of my behavior, I still have pride.

While I wanted to be there for someone I cared about, I forgot that they had to consent to it. They’d have to want me to be there. I’ve been pulling on a thread that went slack months ago. Begging the emptiness to just tell me — why?

Even if I didn’t realise it, I abandoned me. I shunned myself so I could be there for someone I put on a pedestal.

How did we get here?

It doesn’t matter. No need dwelling on things we wish would go a different way. So I let go of the thread. I couldn’t be bothered to snip it. Cut cords, you know?

The realisation hit me so hard, my being trembled.

I was reaching for a version of myself through a shattered mirror. I didn’t realise I’d bloodied my hands. My eyes were sore from tears I didn’t know I cried. Why did I reach for the reflection when the only change I could make was right there, on the other side of the mirror.

My being.

I cried these words: I miss them. I love them. Why would they treat me like this?

But the underlying message, the one I wouldn’t hear until I saw the damage I’d caused me, is:

Why did I abandon myself? I miss me — they were only a version of me reflected in the mirror. I love me — I just forgot that it was me. Why do I treat myself this way?

So to me… I’m sorry, my love.

You were taught to abandon yourself to show love. You were taught to hold tight on cords that went slack because you thought the person on the other side was truly you. You abandoned yourself because you didn’t have a sense of self. You didn’t know you.

I’m sorry, little me. We didn’t know better.

I need you to remember that while the reflection is still us, it is only a reflection. An echo of a version of us.

So from now on, let’s look within.

We’ve learned that abandoning ourselves won’t bring people back. So let’s try, just this once, to give all that love and attention to the being whose eyes we look through.

It’s the way the glass shattered and left you bare, naked before the gaping eye of the abyss. It’s the way you felt yourself break with the veil. Who you once knew never existed.

Suddenly you feel alone, far from the grasp of the warmth you once knew…

I guided you. Let you explore parts of me you mercilessly broke.

Flesh from flesh, bone to dust,

You gave me a rose,