[Comedy as a Pain Killer]

I crack a joke because the pain is real. I have been cut deep, twice, maybe more if I would look closer. The two weeping lacerations are a bit too distracting at the moment to look past. The “why” makes sense, I get that, somehow I can understand, the “how” is something else. “How” is what I fear I will never understand, not while continuing to the person I am.
Sure if I would change how I view it, create a situation so I’d be forced to see, I don’t know, maybe then I’d understand. The only problem is I feel like that would change who I am, I could try to justify it and ignore my morals for a minute, but people can’t do that. That decision is not something you can shrug off and pretend didn’t happen. By choosing that action you ARE that person, you do and you ARE labeled as such. All the excuses in the world can take that shame off of you. It wouldn’t take the shame off of me.
Would it be justifiable? A simple act of revenge? To do what you have done to me. Could it be dismissed as a necessary evil that had to be done? These are questions that need answered, I have sought guidance from monks and fools and came back with nothing. I know I would gain the burden of shame that you carry today. I feel it would be worth the price of this weight to acquire knowledge of things that cannot be found by any other means. This deed, as dirty as it might be, seems unavoidable. This deceit will undoubtedly tarnish my heart, and I welcome all wrath that may come. Just for the small relief of moving past this mountain between us.
Maybe I should just leave, but I don’t feel like I can do that. I still hold my love for you. That is what makes this so difficult. I wish to forget about it and move on, but my need for the touch of an other is too strong. After you have already felt an other’s touch, and another, and another. I want to feel the burn of sin on my flesh, I want you to realize my pain. It hurts me to look upon you with loving eyes today, they are tired from radiating the agony. I know I have been no saint, no one here has. Unfortunately I feel more evil must be done. This thing we have is a comedy and a tragedy, sometimes it’s hard to see the difference between the two because they are so closely related. The best comedies are out of tragedy and tragedy wouldn’t be as good without a hint of irony, darkly humorous.
Our hands will wash clean. Our love will flourish once more. That fire will burn bright after this storm passes and the rain stops spitting. I joke because I don’t understand what I am feeling. My words are unintentionally jabbing the tip of this dagger into your flesh. I want to put the knife away. After this deed is done, that one last slit into you, it will be sheathed, unable to do damage. Our open wounds can close and form silky smooth scars. The memory and hurt will remain but the healing will be beautiful. The jokes will be only a dull ache and maybe we could be US again.

Author: endlessepoch

Writer @ Dismal Studio. Titles include: [Static], Angelic Scars, A Small Collection, Welcome to Lemon Grove.

One thought on “[Comedy as a Pain Killer]”

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