Thursday, July 21, 2011
I came back to bruises and scraped knees. I have a black eye.
What happened last night?
Not a mugging. I have my money, the briefcase, the laptop.
Maybe a Runner fought me? But I'm not locked up, or dead. Would you just leave one of us bruised?
Maybe He did this? I can't predict Him. Can't rule it out, but it doesn't seem right.
It could have been anything. Maybe I fell down the stairs. Walked into a door. Those cliche abuse excuses. This isn't the first time it happened. Might never know how I end up a punching bag. Might be better not knowing.
I shouldn't whine. It's what I have to live with, if I want to live at all. If I want them to live at all. Rebelling against Him would get everyone I cared about killed. It wouldn't stop at bruising. No, down that road is bleeding, vomiting, dying. I have to remember that. Even when I see you partying, drinking, going to concerts, loving, I can't forget that you're all suffering too. You're just putting on positive faces. Nobody wins.
But I lost.
Whining again. I'll stop here. Take some more aspirin and listen to music for a while.