courtesy howstuffworks

Chilling words, those. Perhaps spoken by one abusive partner to another, an overly controlling parent. In anger, under the influence, with or without weapon in hand. The end of the rope, the line, the good times. One can conjure up a number of scenarios in which ‘don’t EVER try leaving again‘ might arise; all of them insinuate threat or worse. None sounds good.

Last night by a woman recently re-incarcerated penned a compelling love letter to the one who has a hold on her that has all but destroyed her life, when all she needs is to let go . . . of a painful, literally life-threatening addiction.

Holding on to you, when I need to just let go . . .

You chase my thoughts, a puppy nipping at the ankle of each free being, of thought, of memory. You’re always here with me, your image tattooed in my brain, my ever-slowing heart . . .

I hold you close, dear, to me; you permeate every molecule, every cell, every nucleus, every mitochondria; everything chants your name . . .

I close my eyes and only feel blood, still pulsing red heat, through my damaged, scarred  being, still standing, despite the abuse I’ve put them through, what I’ve put you through just to survive because I can’t keep you, my life fails to exist . Holding your hand as I drift to eternal slumber, finally surrendering to the overdose, the fatal stop to my madness, the imminent end of my pointless life. Still holding on, but needing to let you go. I want to choose survival . . .

I shake you out, tie my arm up, put that lighter under the spoon; I put the needle in my arm, a pain free princess. You shout, ‘I’m back, don’t ever try leaving again . . .’

I let you threaten, you coerce; I let you beat through my body, coursing in anger now. ‘Relax, baby, don’t ever try leaving again . . .’ But I do. I keep trying.

Even though my body holds on to you while my liver lets you go, even though you beat, batter and ache when I make you get the fuels out, when I need you to leave, to forget me, move on . . .

But again I fail. So I succumb to my evident demise; my ultimate consequence, the price I pay to love you, the love you give me that I can’t get anywhere else.

When did this simple courtship take such a sinister turn?

You tell me ‘Don’t fear the reaper . . . ‘ but I’m scared as darkness falls like black velvet curtains settling around my head, blanketing my vision, shutting us both out. I love you; I wish I could have let you go. You were everything: you lift me up, you let me down, you call me a fuckin’ fiend. Our twisted love story can no longer be.

Only I can seal my fate – my self-fulfilling prophecy continues. The enigmatic journey, my life-long quest has to end; and with it, I bid you ‘adieu.’

Good night, sweetheart. I can finally let you go.

TH