Zelda's Inferno exercise from September 30th: tell an event backwards. Writing this was a little bit cathartic.
it ended with me walking down the sidewalk in front of her house
back to my car
not sure if I had freed myself or
if I wanted to die right there
before that was my attempt to leave as a friend
or at least not an enemy
to tell her I still cared
before that was her throwing back every gift I'd given her
before that was insults, scorn, her anger near hatred
that told me I'd made the right choice
before that was me telling her it had to end
before that was the slow heavy drive to her neighborhood, the slow heavy walk up the block to her door
before that was me saying "we need to talk"
and there was a moment when it crystallized, when I saw the shape of it, when I knew it for what it was
when I knew what story this was
and that I was neither hero nor villain, but victim
before that was a phone call from her
her voice turning icy when my housemate hung up the line
she demanding to know where I'd been that day
not the voice of love but of control
before that was love
and confusion
and confused love and loving confusion
and anger and hurt and healing
and other hurt
and joy
and all those things
and years later
all those things are still here
now.