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11:08 a.m. - 2013-04-12
Tired. To the bone.

Once upon a time...

Isn't that how all the good stories start?

Once upon a time there was a girl. Conceived in haste and by mistake. Born under a shadow of doubt and embarrassment. There was nothing pleasing about the girl. She was wrong in every single way. This despite being physically beautiful, brainy, and kind. Those things were held against her or exploited for others' profit.

The girl grew up seeing herself as they did. As a burden, a mess, a reason to be disgusted.

The girl fucked up. A lot. She had learned hard and often that what the others said about her was correct.

Yet, absurdly, she hung onto a dream.

Marinated in and bolstered by fairytales. Surely stories which persisted for so long, over centuries even, those stories must speak some kind of truth.

So she dreamed. And hoped. And waited. The present was a way station. A place to be for a while before going forward. Until the next thing. The next place to be when (maybe) it would be good.

After a long, long, long time the girl thought her hopes had been realized. Her patience and the lessons she'd learned so harshly had been rewarded.

The girl saw the goodness and was at peace. She celebrated. And danced. And allowed the pain and awfulness to drift away. Price paid, you know?

Sadly, like always, she was stupid. Her faith in the good, the hope in the dream, the surety she'd hung onto all those years while she floundered and got it so backward and had her nose rubbed into the truth of how from the very beginning she was a wrong thing, an unwanted consequence, she'd finally believed it had all worked out okay in the end.



My best still isn't good enough. Guess I am the only one surprised by this, eh?

Sorry. ~LA

7 Wanna talk about it!

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