A Rouge's Lament

As many years have passed and these conversations have long since been had, the consequences of who we are and who we were supposed to be have never seemed as immaterial as they are reflected in your memory. The inevitability of the long goodbyes, filled with the emotional circumstance and justified finality of it all, carefully orchestrated and perpetuated to an unsettling perfection.

Everyone that touches our lives, but for some seemingly disconnected way, will have their own part to play in these stories. Thousands of moments will intersect, for purposes we will never know of until it is far too late for any of them to matter. Perhaps the story we wrote together was all there was ever supposed to be. The fairy tale ending was never meant to pass, for our two characters at least; the journey had fulfilled its promise and they live happily ever after in the stories that were to come. There was nothing more to be gained from this time together, and slowly we came to resent each other. Our presence in each other’s lives prevented that next great adventure from ever materializing; chances were left untaken, and the glow had faded to night.

Perhaps your role in my story was to save me like they always do, find me on the dark side of my existence and walk with me to the life just out of reach. Without knowing you, whoever you may be in the great adventure we have written together, without knowing what it was like to lose that touchstone of emotion, perhaps that was the message you were meant to deliver.

Perhaps my role in your story was to give you that ideal companion; the one you will be able to compare all others against for the stories left untold. You will know what to properly expect, what you deserve, and the standard by which you will never have to tolerate. You will never be fooled again.

We proved that what it takes to make it to that day then can be impossibly difficult; you will encounter the most fantastical moments if you choose to see them, but no matter how much people try to hold onto this idea that it will all get better one day, sometimes the best intentions are never enough. We walked through the bad for far too long for anything good to have a chance today.

You will remember a caricature of me, the desperate rogue that used our time together for his own solace. An idea of what was and what should never be. I will remember your relentless kindness, the simple moments together where the world within my mind would stand still but for a moment and provide the ease that had so eluded me. There is nothing more to be gained from these moments, for it was only the part we were meant to play in each other’s lives. But on that day then, you know what side I’ll be on when that moment comes, surprising to the very end, to the rescue again as that glow within flickers into the pyre we once knew before.

…
…
…

What is so wrong with ending the world in a way that makes everyone feel like they are responsible for the inevitable outcome. My gift to them, the confidence to do it again, and again, and again. Yes, it is to make myself feel better, I am enlightened.