double standard

i hate civil war reenactments. i hate the fake misery and death and over-dramatization. i dont like the grown men with civil war flags on their cars. or the south will rise again stickers. its over. its done. we're a nation. united. bound. and that was ages ago and we know how it turned out. rehashing it, keeping it alive, doesnt change the outcome one iota.

you realize that you were the only one that got therapy, right?

that the situation effected us all but that you were the only priority. and it was done gladly. and would probably be handled the same way again and again.

but you fled, doctors orders, and have been repeating the same scenario for decades now.

and we're tired. really, really tired. not angry. not mad. not hateful.
just tired.

because you keep leaving and yelling back over your shoulder the most hateful things. and once the poison reverberates down to our very souls you are back and 'you' again. the you you were before you left. before you killed us all.

he didnt get therapy.
he didnt even get defended.
he had to stand by and watch us make nice with his oppressor.
and be told in so many words that he didnt matter.

he didnt get to flee.
or to yell.
or work it out with a qualified professional.

he's had to self-medicate and wrestle with his own demons. alone. with fear that the problem was HIM because no one ever told him it wasnt.

somewhere between those experiences is the truth. somewhere bw yours of its-all-them-youre-perfect-run-forrest-run and his of deafening silence and waves of residual self-doubt ---- is where the shouldas and couldas reside. but we dont live there. we live here.

here with caring parents that want peace. here with the only family that we will ever have. here with either forgiveness and acceptance and love or

over there.

wherever you chose to make that.

but i do know that here means letting go of age-old battles. and embracing the scars. and realizing that your version of the truth is not one of absolutes.

we ALL died a little that day. we all lost something. you weren't the only one experiencing it. we were all in it together. a family. because thats what families do.

but now, now when we are older and can decide --- i can NOT still fly the flag, i can NOT engage with your reeenactments and i can NOT be a part of any bumpersticker movement to have the south rise again. on the other side of the field is a soul that stood alone in the face of abuse and manipulation and made a choice to not let it rule his future.

yes, its been a slow road perhaps. but this i know for sure... his tune is not an overplayed dixieland. and i canNOT say the same for you.