Do you like it uptown?

You aren't the only thing l write about. Or think about, for that matter. It's just that, this time of year, I struggle to keep you out of my thoughts.

You were, after all, my Favorite, once upon a time. How can I just forget?

Do you ever wonder how we got here and, more importantly, recognize your role in the undoing of Us?

In every bit of reflection and self-examination I can muster, I definitively see my fault as failing to walk away on that very first day. Even in that tragic mistake, my motives were pure. My reactions punctuate my ignorance in an impossible situation. For every action in every moment after, I can say, without a hint of uncertainty, my conscience is clear.

Still and all, it's nearly an unbearable shame that the innocent still suffer. And, just for the record, lest you are smug in the knowledge that the broken bits of us keep crawling back, note that the rest are limping along without desperately seeking a victimizer's approval.

The fundamental difference is the way and age in which they were woke to the original sin - the one I harbored for your sake to our ultimate detriment.

I torment myself with his private pain in every moment I protected every one else but him and all the What Ifs I'd had the courage to walk away even as you sneered Sister Christian to my back in convenient protest?

It's not wrong to protect the ones you love. I just had my priorities confused because it only served to make the undoing unbearable.

So, how can I fault you for protecting the priorities I should have these dozen plus years ago?

If there was a better outcome, I'll have to assume you'd pursue it. Meanwhile, I lick my wounds and try to keep them from festering.


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