Uninteded revelations

I was told that everything would seem okay with you here. I took it to mean that it really would be okay and forgot that it could only be seemingly so. Though I knew all along what you meant, what jars me is that I bottled the unintended revelations and pushed the container all the way to the back of the cupboard so no one would know where to find it. And when they asked me, I would simply shrug my shoulders and look away, pretending that all was well and knowledge of the impending was not in my possession. It kills me that I knew and wouldn’t say. Couldn’t, in fact; the cognitive dissonance was much too heavy a burden to bear. Because if the one person that believed it – believed it to the point that it was embossed in the stones of reality – if that one person were to crash and fall, what would become of the years spent in apparent futility? So you see, the pretense was just and lies had to be spun into truth, no matter the condescension. And after all this time, when blurry images have cleared and whispered sentiments have been made audible, I finally set out on the journey, gathering all the curious secrets and burying them under the tree where we had once stood and you did not promise. There is nothing left to confess now and I wish I could tell you that I want to take it back, but I don’t. I only want you to remember that I am the one that lost, so very long ago then. But I am not disappointed, no. Saddened, maybe. But it’s more than that – more tangible, clearer, and so much stronger. More stronger than tattered notebooks and crossed-out words that mark the healing of time.