Purple Irises

I'm not even sure why or how but I'm here.

I hate this day.

I mean, I hate the majority of the holidays but this one I loathe especially.

Earlier on the TV I heard a lady speaking about how it is hard for some people to believe God is good because they have had terrible fathers, I find the opposite to be true: God is so good that I can't picture any human male being able to supply love that could echo of something so grand.

I feel like I am running to just keep still, to be able to stand in one place...no time to breath or rest...I relive the memories at a hundred miles per hour...the images ripping through my mind and my eyes...stealing my breath and ripping what remains of my heart.

This is...it makes it hard for me to pray.

I can't think.

I can't breath.

I need to know you love me, I need to know I am not just the sum total of a vastly improbable mathematical equation...I need what I can't give myself...what no one else I can...I need to know you are proud of me, I need to know you love me.

If you can't love me how could I ever begin to love myself?

I look in the mirror and see the villian that has done nothing but cause pain these twenty plus years...and where are you?

I see the shadow of you...the merest flecks of gold...just on the edge of my vision...these lost thoughts and memories...pricking my veins like a drug...a narcotic I'm addicted to...the only salvation is in your eyes, the love I never knew and never will.