Was there ever a time without You beside me, whispering why I should not, could not, ought not to … to do the things I never dared, but always cared to do? You were my mother’s voice, crooning lullabies of sacrifice and submission, purging me of selfishness and sedition. I wouldn’t recognize Love without You beside her to guide her and guard her against me. Along with my squinty, single-lidded eyes, my hypothetical non-children and never-children will inherit You–You who are written in my genes and racing through my veins, running from potential pains inflicted. I am addicted to the excuses expended to explain why I should not, could not, ought not to … to ask for what I want, what I need, what I feed upon for simple soul sustenance. Guilt, thou art the altar upon which I’ve offered up my bleeding dreams, before which I’ve prostrated my pleading heart. And now I start to wonder at how I might live without You, how I might give of myself despite You, how I might conceive of a way of being and and a way of seeing that retracts your privilege and extracts your power. In my direst hour, I bid you adieu, dear Guilt. From time to time, our paths may cross, and I’m sure to feel your loss as my constant companion and closest confidant. But I’m sure it’s what I want, and I hope you will respect my wishes. — Sincerely, me.
