Snake Bite

I haven't cried in a few days. I've been a walking snake bite, squeezing out some of that poison with each cry. I think I've only got a bit of that venom left. Soon I'll just be left with the sting then the scars.

He gave me a poem entitled, "Last Poem". It was a sad sharing about his mental state that repeated the gem: "but in the end you really just left us". That's a sad thought but I don't feel bad or guilty. I value myself too much to sacrifice my chance for a fulfilling life. I feel confident about my handling of this situation.

He told me that he didn't want me to be offended by the negative tone and I told him that this was his expression and I support it. I didn't tell him that I thought it was full of ego and that this probably elicited the exact opposite response in me that he intended (although he would deny that he had intentions or expectations).

Now, I am able to just get him. I can get him from afar without feeling like I have to tell him about it.

This is just a process and it does get better. There are several variables to factor in: Time. Space. And The Dog.