The Painful Truth
This intense stylization of story telling that projects in my mind helps the unconventional narrative seep into your unconscious. I've never been one to hold back any punches of the ugly side of romance, commitment and love. Sometimes the need to hear the painful truths is only the desire to manifest any lover's need to possess his or her beloved. The victim of infidelity grapples not only with just the pain of betrayal but also wrestles with the inescapable knowledge of their most intimate element of their lover that will never, ever be theirs. The same way a person might find themselves unable to live with the knowledge of their partners past sexual encounters let alone the destructive imagery within their mind, the betrayed individual has to confront their own pain, however irrational, for being unable to think of every aspect of their partner as their own, and the daunting disappointment of how they can't complete their partners internal empty voids of lost lust, desperate comforting and a damaged ego. Even with all the devastating details of how, when, what positions, and with whom they cheated you on with, nothing stops the mental anger and anguish in pursuit of vainly trying to take back those intimate moments and claim them for only rightly the two of you. In the end, you never have full control and complete possession of our lover and that very realization wrapped up within the lost files of distrust is what drives us deeper in trying to gain some secret knowledge of who and what they are at their most pure and compromised level. Through exhausting energy, we learn this level of understanding does not exist for us because we were never meant to have that type of responsibility for anyone else other than ourselves. The digging, struggling and the grasping is futile as no person can be reduced to a singular truth or multiple lies. Even the most mundane details about who we are can turn out to be transitory, and even at times, meaningless. I have learned that is not a pretty area of human life to shine any kind of light on and I've tried many before, and I think it's safe for me to say I have failed at them miserably. The only light I allow to shine on me now is the one in the sky. I let it brighten my soul everyday rather than the darken shadows behind everyone else's forgotten light of broken forgiveness, excessive baggage and brave bitterness.