I've never had use for people who were not genuine, or people who were so self-absorbed that they failed to see how much they hurt the people around them, especially the people that love(ed) them. And now - oh, now, this morning, on the bright tide of mania-cum-spirit, I am righteously angry, and mentally flailing. Were I able this day to drive to Baltimore and beat the absolute HELL out of my best friend's ex-boyfriend, I would. I was this angry when he dumped her - on their four-month anniversary, downtown, on the curb. The AUDACITY of the man to drop her like that, to tell her that all the I love you's were wrong, were lies, and then to seek comfort from her...it is enough to drive me straight to him with a whiffle bat and a grim determination.
He told her, great spirit that she is, that he could envision a life with her, marrying her, owning a home together, maybe children; she believed him. Never should a person say such things to another if they do not mean it. Maybe he meant it when he said it, but if there had been any doubt in his mind AT ALL - either because of his own issues, or concern for her - he should NEVER have said those things at all. They became LIES when he left, and they became the foundation on which her misery has been made.
And now? NOW? After he told her he could not find it in himself to marry again, it could not happen, her dream was over: that BASTARD has gotten married. MARRIED. The man who had decided at their end that marriage was no longer for him, has gotten MARRIED. And had I known, I would have called his bride and told her the misery he had grafted the tree of my friend's soul. I would have told her the lies, told her the locks, told her all that I could tell her to make her INTIMATE of the WRONG in her future husband's heart. Oh, I would have told her how he had made the moon gleam on the snow for the saint that is my friend, and how the sun itself smiled on their meeting. How the blood in her veins was fire in a way it had not long been. How the words remained when he did not, and he abandoned her on a corner in downtown Baltimore, in the shadow of the buildings, no comfort given, though comfort requested. Oh, I would not spare a detail, not spare a tear, not spare one moment's vicious victory over the bride's misconception of her so-called beloved.
*sigh* But I cannot now, it is impossible. And I cannot bring myself to wish misery on that poor bride; enough may come from the hands of her new husband. And I cannot wound him for fear of wounding my beloved friend, who once loved him. What I want now is to go to my friend, is to comfort her, to hold her hands and warm them with my own love, with the love that does not falter, does not lie, the love of sisters not-blood. The love that asks for nothing but love.
Where you are, there you are, my coal-maned sister:
come to the South, where we will warm you,
let you bask in the shade, not the shadows,
where the world will not tilt, you will not tumble off,
where the nights will be sweet without the sinister tongue
of a liar, of a man to whom nothing is owed.
In a bed of green, in a room of light,
we will comfort you, we will laugh with you,
and dredge the nightmares out; we will roam,
we will sing, we will weave a circle
'round that heart of yours,
oh glowing coal of heaven,
and bind the wounds with tea and cake,
smiles and friends, and green green grass,
and the wind on your face, and the sun in your eyes,
and you can trust that the words are wisdom,
that they are real and reliable,
and the promises made are carved
in the stone of the bones of the earth,
and in our own bones, to hold us to
our promises and our pacts.
Oh, come to us, blessed woman-child,
to the open arms of blood not-blood,
and heal where you are guaranteed love eternal.
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