A Love For Darkness

On A Monday

Tate:

How does a woman jump head first down a rabbit hole and come unharmed?

That's a easy one.

She doesn't.

It would seem that somehow my life had mimicked that of my favorite fairy tale. Because I was somehow drawn to the beast and it had nothing to do with his beauty.

All the plans I ever had for my life went up in smoke. Somehow I always thought I'd find my happy ending. But that's not so, I'd like to think I've come out a little bruised and maybe even a little smarter.

Everyone thinks we can write our own stories, and almost each and every time, we think we know the ending, but the truth of the matter is, we don't.

I used to believe in luck. Maybe it does exist between chance and fate. As if there is peace that comes from knowing that you just can't know the ending.

Life is funny that way.

Sometimes you have to let go of the wheel and you might be surprised to find that you end up exactly where you belong.

In the end I dove head first into the pool of life. You either sink or swim, but usually in the end, you've come out on top and can glide through the choppy waters of existing.

Only I'm not alone.

And he'll never let me be. He wove his web and ensnared me.
He took my love and stomped on it.

He cracked my shell until he broke me.

He glued me back together with his true marrow.

He also made me a target.

And a date with death seems on the agenda.

I was a moth and like the moth I flew to the flame and got burned. And he was the spider, weaving that damn web. He was positioned just right, waiting for the slightest movement from the hapless moth.

He captured me, hook, line and sinker. Then wove the cocoon tighter, until I could no longer move. I have no where to run. No where to hide.

Only to him.