Break in the clouds

A talk with a dear friend yesterday lifted me a little, realigning some of the lenses in my clouded vision. A day that started cloudy and ended with a glimpse of sun. So hard to talk though and so ...essential. The people we love always deserve better than we can give, at least mine do. I always feel I have a wooden tongue in a broken mouth when I try to express my feelings to them. Clack, mumble, clack. So important and so hard, especially in this particular case, where an awkward ending needed to be turned into a friendship.

But after our talk I have hope that we may have managed to trim our ailerons and align wing tips before hurtling off on our separate trajectories into some bizarre Red Arrows display metaphor and what the fuck am I going on about...

You see what happened there?
Anger and indifference are easy. Expressing compassion is not. Especially for the werewolf's son.

I seem to have a jaw full of weapons grade insults tipped with acid and powered by malice that seem to fight and fuck each other if they have no clear target, generating more venomous and venal versions of themselves. Trouble is they are so nasty I can barely bring myself to use them, would have a good chance of ending up in a courts martial if I did. And while yeah, every one says 'I'm nuts I am, you don't wanna see me mad' etc, etc, an episode in my distant past really did scare the shit out of me and left someone else very very poorly. You can take my word for it (or not) the fucker deserved it, so no guilt, just fear of the ferocity and loss of control. Although not direction, unfortunately for him.

Fact is I made a conscious decision to try to be a good person a looong time ago, rather than the un-moral one I was in a different part of the realm. I wasn't bad, just moral free and with a Bad Crowd, which meant my life could easily have gone either way. And often did. No regrets for changing, I have had more love, friends and laughs, and whole lot less punches kicks stabbings and batterings. Result!

It's just that even after all this time, something in me feels I'm not really built for the Light Side; I don't look like it or sound like it and my feeble attempts to convey what I feel, inevitably leave me feeling like proverbial one legged man in an ass-kicking competition.

Still, at least I try.
And hope she, and all my other friends, know the love behind the clacking growling noise that comes out of my snout sometimes...