Beautiful Indifference (GBE 49)

I was relieved when I did not find you. Because no trace of you existed I could convince myself that you did not exist, that what happened was so long passed that it no longer mattered.

I did not, could not, would not, let it go.

You became a fairy tale monster. Mythic, horrific, contained.

I peered around corners expecting you to jump forth and rip my heart from my chest. I tiptoed through the forest of buildings you used to haunt for fear that you would materialize before me. That like a Jabberwocky, you would always await me, making every road impassable.

I mourned what was lost at the same time I added mortar to the walls of this fortress; bricking myself up one pebble at a time.

All the while with one eye on the looking glass.

I am not sure what I thought I would do if, when, I found you staring forth from my reflection. I believed I would feel anger. That every old hurt, real and imagined would rush righteously back, searing my heart.

Then, at last, there you were.

And I felt nothing.