o n e

My Love,

It has been months since I have last written you. I yearn for the laughs we had once shared and the brilliant colors that coated my mind when we shared our touch. The snow here sticks to the ground unlike our home. I have thought much about our home, about our friends, our families. I can’t help but continue to fathom what could have happened between you and I, my Love… What magical exhausting rendezvous were we meant to experience by the gracious hands of god. What would have happened if we had pushed forth through all the perilous sunlight and had made it to stars kiss on the night sky. It has been months since I have head from you. The man who delivers messages through the town quite frankly must be dissatisfied with seeing my yearning face everyday. I believe he and all the other residents of this ice town make the same inferences of me. Little they know of the sins I carry, nor do they know of the man who arrived in this town what seems like an eternity ago.

In love with another man…How treacherous in its name must it be. How would the residents of this town thus react. Burn me at the stake like a wretched witch, deny me unalienable rights, and proclaim me a slave of the dark master himself. Only God in his true plan must know. But for you my Love…I would follow in the path if Christ himself and walk through this town with a heavy cross allocated to my backside. For you My Love I would burn at the stake thousands of times…For you my Love all is necessary.

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about last night

I hurt you. I took your trust and drug it through the mud. I besmirched our name and negated your feelings and your love. I’ll spend every waking moment regretting my decisions and words, your love and admiration were truly taken advantage of, and in so sense was it ok, it was reprehensible of me to speak on you or us in that way. Please let me apologize and realize that “I can never cease to condemn myself for the pang which it may inflict in a bosom eminently entitled to all my gratitude, fidelity, and love.” (Hamilton, 1797) I love you. I would fight for you every moment of everyday because you are my person. The one that I intend on spending my life with, the person I intend on falling asleep next to and waking up each morning with. There are no comparisons that exist between you and another soul, you are the complete object of my affection and heart.I can only live, either altogether with you or not at all. “Yes, I have determined to wander about for so long far away, until I can fly into your arms and call myself quite at home with you, can send my soul enveloped by yours into the realm of spirits — yes, I regret, it must be. You will get over it all the more as you know my faithfulness to you; never another one can own my heart, never — never! O God, why must one go away from what one loves so, and yet my life in W. as it is now is a miserable life. Your love made me the happiest and unhappiest at the same time. At my actual age I should need some continuity, sameness of life — can that exist under our circumstances…What longing in tears for you — You — my Life — my All — farewell. Oh, go on loving me — never doubt the faithfullest heart. Of your beloved

Ever thine.
Ever mine.
Ever ours.”

(Beethoven 1812)

pt. 1

a/n

I need this right now. Not a lot of things are going right in my life…Really all faults are my own i’ve let things get out of control. I need to fix them but I need this book for myself. To prove to myself the things that I once loved so much about myself are still here.

***

The world outside this small antiquated church is silent. The leaves are still, the cicadas have suddenly stopped singing,and there’s a dread lurking in the air.

Inside theres a priest. He stands at the front of the aisle and fiddles with a coin. At a closer glance it’s an AA chip, he slowly paces back and forth while the chip moves between his fingers. After 11 years of sobriety the thought of breaking it crosses his mind. Its funny how addictions work like that. The wrong stressor could send you reeling off, throwing away 11 years of hard work. Only one drink and suddenly his blood, sweat, and tears meant nothing.

A gust of wind sends the giant wooden doors flying open. The wind picks up the dirt and dust off the floor creating a cloud of debris that makes the priest choke. The stained glass windows shatter and crumble to the floor creating a mesmerizing array of colors. He’s momentarily blinded creating more tension and stress throughout his already weakened body.

“Good Evening Father.” a strong voice echoes through the church, a shadowy figure emerges from the cloud of debris that is beginning to settle on the cold hard floor of the church, “Did you find them?”

The priests fear begins to radiate throughout the building. He squeezes his eyes shut almost as if praying to whatever god he currently believed in as he faced evil itself.

“Y-yes.” he says stuttering like he used to when he was a small child, “t-t-they’re in Texas.”

The stranger raises his eyebrows, a smirk grows on his face, “I can smell you from here Father Nicholas, why are you so afraid?”

Father Nicholas looks at the stranger. He has yet to make legitimate eye contact, his brown eyes have been darting back and forth between each exit as he contemplates a daring escape. He knows his fate. Things like Damien were created on this earth for one reason…to spew chaos and destruction. Father Nicholas knew this even before becoming indebted to Damien.

He remembered learning about Damiens kind on his trip to the vatican where he earned his priesthood. They were regarded as soldiers of the dark. Created by witches in moments of despair these soldiers of the dark were almost demons-they were humans cursed in sin who were granted immortality as long as they devoted themselves to the dark lord.

“I-i-i’m n-n-n-not-”

“afraid?” Damien finishes Father Nicholas sentence for him as he starts walking up the aisle.

Father Nicholas finally looks at Damien. His broad stature was threatening and the scar running down the side of his face spoke testaments to his past. Father Nicholas stood at least a foot shorter than Damien, Damien’s deep African accent bellowed through the church at decibels unbeknownst to Father Nicholas as their only other previous encounter had been through a curvy fairy that Father Nicholas accidentally picked up at a rest top while driving through Nevada.

Father Nicholas had heard of Damien through a network of hunters in the midwest region. Theory had been that Damien was on the search for the end of the world, what that meant necessarily no one knew but his gang of creatures bred by the night were known for their callous behavior there were numerous accounts of them torturing anything and anyone for information regarding the christian apocalypse.

“Where in Texas did you find them?” Damien asked.

“A-a-a small town in south t-t-texas called Modos.” Father Nicholas begins to cry. He brings his hands to prayer, quietly reciting a verse from the bible. He knew once Damien had the information he needed…Damien would kill him.

Beads of sweat had begun to run down Father Nicholas’ face. Sweat had collected at the hairline of his salt and pepper hair, and on the small of his back. His white button up was already drenched the Georgia summer had taken a lot from Father Nicholas tonight, the temperature refused to drop bellow 96°, and stress had begun to take its toll.

“tsk tsk Father, why are you so afraid of a black man? Not racist are we?” Damien said creating a banter that Father Nicholas was uncomfortable with. Damien knew he was going to kill him but what was the fun in doing it right away. He was like an Orca playing with a seal, tossing it up into the air before devouring it in a bloody massacre, “I’m not gonna kill you Nicholas, think of this mate, as a pardon.”

Father Nicholas’ eyes flew wide open and the praying stopped. Was Damien telling the truth? Did his humanity really still lie beneath those still eyes?

“Go ahead Father,” Damien said stepping in between the pews leaving the aisle clear for Father Nicholas to make his grand exit, “Let your friends know just how kind I was to you.”

Father Nicholas stumbles down a few steps onto the aisle. He flies into a sprint down the aisle. His eyes focus on the moon light entering the open doors, god had answered his prayers he thought. He felt the blood pumping through his veins as his feet pushed him through the church.

He felt a cold rush through his body as he passed Damien. He turned and look at Damien, the two of them were but 6 inches apart. Damiens grey eyes pierced Father Nicholas heart as they flashed entirely black, causing Father Nicholas to go perfectly still.

Father Nicholas falls to the ground and erupts into small pieces. Damien smirks again looking at his victims deceased body on the floor. He kicks the stone around with his feet as he sighs with happiness. It had been 8 years since he had turned someone to stone, he had recently found more joy in torturing his victims than a quick death.

Sometimes the forgotten bits of his human soul lurked around in his body causing him to feel brief stints of guilt but not enough to deter him from his mission. To find Elisabeth and make her remember. Sometimes he thought about giving up, on the night of their anniversary the objective seemed like a lost cause. It would come around each year causing strife in Damien’s life. He had gained no traction nor information for 56 years, but after 56 years of murder, torture, and possession Damien could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

***

picturing a lil michael b jordan as Damien

Never heard

my opinions come back to me in echoes

my feelings return as arrowheads lodged in my back

Our fights lack my voice and everyone but him can see it

is it me?

is it him?

these questions rack my mind and tears fall from my eyes

every time like clock work

i think of couples counseling

i think of leaving him

I never know where I stand

I only know where my feelings go

I know where my opinions go.

I keep the arrowheads as souvenirs

I record the echoes so that I always know

I am granted to feel how I feel

I am not my mistakes

I am human.

I say to myself, I hear you.

You are working on yourself.

You are not perfect.

Your mistakes are beautiful.

We wake up with a clean slate,

you are measured by how much you try

not by how you fail.

Me too.

“the world made sense and then in the blink of an eye it didn’t”

I remember staring at myself…small glances only. Like a stranger seeing a face that looked so familiar yet…unrecognizable. My eyes were glazed like what becomes of a body in death. Although I will  say that’s how i felt. I felt as if i was dead, like i was nothing but a meat suit. Going from here to there, no real sense of direction. No emotions, no goals, no ambitions, nothing but a memory played on an endless loop on a giant movie screen in the back of my head. There is no way to explain that pain, to look at yourself and be unfamiliar with the person staring back. Even now, when i have gotten through the worst of the worst, i will catch myself, odd moments of the day, where time just stops. Time stops and i catch myself staring at the stranger once again, she quakes with terror now. I have abandoned her, i have stripped her of every quality, i have called her every word: disgusting, filthy, unwanted, a coward. Is she the coward or am I? I buried her in the graveyard of my mind with suicidal ideation and the anxiety. She’s stuck in her own personal hell. She screams but silence erupts when he places a hand on her head, shoving her downward and in a whisper she hears her subconscious “it’s too late now” and she can only see the outlines of the face but they strike fear into her system, he grunts and shuts his eyes, the worst is over she thinks. She stares at her self-proclaimed lover, he pulls up his pants. Looks at her and says “you should buy some plan b” she’s lost in the moment, i should know, that feeling never quite leaves you, no matter what, no matter how much the one after that loves you or holds you, no matter how much your mother mutters to you she loves you, no matter how many times your friends tell you they want him dead. no matter what that feeling will never leave, the feeling of truly losing yourself will never abandon you. No matter how much scar heals and is caked over with layers of memories that one feeling will never fade. She had prayed she had prayed with her knees on grits and her hands in the air to her god. My Lord, let that be the worst, amen. My Lord i don’t know how much more i can take, amen. My Lord if you are there please hear me i’m screaming for your salvation, amen. He had decided to test her faith when her self proclaimed lover looked at her and uttered the words “you should have tried harder to stop me”.  At times I will cry for that girl. Usually between the hours of 2-4 AM I will weep, in silence, alone in a quiet mind, i weep for her when I visit her. I travel to that graveyard just to tell her things will be okay. I am there for her because no one else will be. I am there for her when someone brings him up, I’m there for her when someone blames her for the situation, I am there for her when her mom says “you should think twice when you trust someone”. I am there for her because the only thing i had come to learn was that I was the only that could be.