Yes, hate them, live to avoid them always take the chance, never give in to fear. Never give in, never give up. I know I am strong; I have survived a great many things others would have fallen apart at. And in all my life, I regret almost nothing. Everything happens for a reason. Everything happens in its own time. I do not regret Dan dieing in my lap while I was so fucked up on drugs I could not move. I do not regret hitchhiking from
I regret loving him. My Yehoshea, my pure creamed skin blue eyed Yehoshea. He could look into me and command the sea of my hear to part, and it would. He would look at me and say “pige I love you, you more than anyone else and no one will ever love you like I do.” And he was right, no one has every loved me like him. So intensely. He is my beshert. And in him, I am truly my self. More my self than I will ever be. More my self than Is possible. I am free. I have the acceptance, and love I can only dream about in the outside world… we live in our own paradise. One covered in blood and hate and sin. And its ok, then. its ok to be that way. It’s ok to let down my guard and embrace my soul. Fate is a cruel mistress and we are her swords and her tongue. His lips, can cool me though. Like no one ever has. And when I snap, which I do uncontrollably around him and I know the rose colored shade of the world… he pulls me back with a kiss. And in those moments he whispers into my ear the same prayer “my beauty sleep now, sleep so latter we can be together, so latter this rage can be passion my queen” his queen. Tears run for my eyes remembering his voice, I was his… his queen. His. And the rage subsided and the rose of the world returned to normal color. I was like a puppet in him, he pulled my strings artfully, and it was because he is everything I am, but stronger. He has my missing pieces. He is, my other half, made of the same pieces of earth… made by the beautiful hands of fate. And I love him. I love him when he beats men ¾ dead for looking at me wrong. I love him when he destroys stores because he disagreed with the clerk who didn’t speak English. I love him when he paints swastikas outside temples; I love him when he jumps black people walking down the street at night. I love him when he sins, because he loves me for what I am. When he came home covered in blood and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to the shower… when he looked into my eyes scared and worried that he would be arrested, that he would be taken from me that I would be alone in my rage, he would smile and whisper to me “I love you, I love you like no one in this world can, I love you for what I know you are capable of, I love you for your sins, I love you for the monster in your soul that devours your good intentions… I love you forever” one night he came to me, to the side of our bed, he reached out for me as I slept and I woke as his fingers sat on my neck. And he spoke “you know what I am going to do, and I know what will happen. You see it hua?” he looked into me like he never had before. And I think that may have been the only time in his life he cried. The beast, the monster, the heartless fiend… he cried. “I am leaving you now, I willn’t be back for some time and I know you will be gone when I return, but I will call you. I will find you. I will always love you” I looked to him. I couldn’t say anything… he slapped me. “fuck say something” and I smiled, and looked at him… I said don’t go. He walked away. And in the morning, I was gone. I want nothing more in my life, than to be loved. To be healed. For someone to know me for what I am, to be seen as beautiful truly beautiful not regardless of my sins but because of them. And I know, my Yehoshea was the only one who would ever love me like he does, and that he will love me long after we die. And I will always regret going there. I will always regret knowing him. I will always regret that i didn't make him stay. And I know, I can never go back. I know how that ends.
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