alkalinenerd

You know what they say, he giveth and he taketh away. Usually they're talking about Jesus. I've never been one for religious super heroes, but I used to call him Jesus. It started in my living room with a routine three minute confusing stop, but wait... a beautiful stranger. Typically and this case being no exception I didn't bother to pay attention, knowing damn well the extent of his charming spell. Nearly forgotten by way of being ignored, this memory was stored away. I don't wish to interfere with his magic, his subjects are his own and they are a many.

A future chance encounter led to intoxicating tastes of personality, among shopping carts and exercise machines... your typical crowd. From my vantage point it was clear that trouble was brewing. Indepth conversations led to myself dispensing advice I wish I had just taken to heart, "Have all the fun that you want, but don't get attached and wonder why you're not loved back." Months and moons pass and the view is clear as day, the spell is at it's strongest. We're all shown an elaborate masquerade, led to believe that what we see is what we get. Maybe i'm no so easily fooled. Perhaps we're all pretending that we don't notice the strings in a puppet show.

Relapse, and not without warning. Right in my face, the last place I would choose to place it. He swears it was not his intention, to complicate things with such a spell. What do I believe? Time passes once again and the spell weakens, or are we still pretending the strings aren't visible? I would be lying if I said my interest was not growing daily, and I couldn't even tell you why. Suddenly I realize that I can't see the strings, am I the puppet? Am I the one under this spell?

Breaktaking rays of summertime sunshine have long replaced the painful dark clouds of April sky. Placed sparactically throughout life are those days/weeks/months where everything is beauty, dripped straight from the artist's brush. This was my early July, for the first time in as long as I could remember I was ecstatic to be alive, to wake up and breath the ocean air. Nothing we did mattered as long as we had fun, and we did. I didn't have to ask for anything, I didn't want to. I shouldn't have. No reason was needed for her to jump into the seat nearest me and rest her head on my body. I was comfortable, reaching down unmaliciously to massage her scalp or just subtly rest, together. We were close.

You know that moment of a chess game when you release a soldier from your grasp and immediately glimpse the future to see his(or her) untimely death quickly leading toward your own? As I sent a text and set down my sidekick I hastidly realized the error of my action. My scope had been so delicately locked on the queen that I didn't see the bishop's diagonal attack. The rest of the game doesn't even matter, we all know how it is going to end. The fun, the ocean air, the cuddling didn't matter now. Always resilient, I refused to tip my king so easily.

Autumn forces her way through and maybe the games are over, I've sacrificed all of the pawns I could afford. I spoke with Jesus, or the lord of spells as he may be called and he claimed to have abandoned such tactics. Are the strings showing? I didn't notice them. Disappearing before my eyes, she appears where? His bed! His most private chamber! Such trickery when we swore none would be spoken of. Apologies pass and accidents happen, even especially tragic ones. It was a mistake, and nobody needs to hear about your mistakes, right? It would only smudge your rehearsed, shined & polished gentlemenly character and we sure don't want that, right? We can't have the audience see your special preperations, right?!?

I can't stand the pressure, I concede. Take her. That's of course not what he wants! Such was most certainly not his intention. So I give up, I painstakingly place all the pieces as close as I can to their original positions and gravefully bow out. We sit on neutral ground, a bit rocky but bridges have been torched and rebuilt and we can walk to and fro without fatal consequence. Conversations, patches and not so delicately placed words do not compromise the structural integrity. We're okay. Company is enjoyed, goodbyes are said and good times appear on the horizon.

This morning I awoke to find i've been a victim of the spell lord's disappearing act again. What am I supposed to feel> Something besides deception and anger? I thought I had figured out the act, I was sure I had seen the strings and the mystery was nigh. I'm left with the same misdirection and apologies as before, what am I to believe? I don't deserve to be consistently disprespected and deceived.