To My Brightest Day, My Morrigan

There was a time when I was dawn, was light, was dream. I drank and danced. I sang and fucked and balanced my life against others. And in the end it was a creature of darkness who acted as my savior. Through her love I rose from the chrysalis of seeming placid life. A false front, but one that I embraced for her. A false front that became my life when I failed to save her as I was saved by her. When she was taken by a coward who fled before me, I lost myself. I fell. I embraced the false front as if that was all I was. I ventured out only when I could breathe no more, I woke slowly from that nightmare. Something fully realized only when the coward was found and dealt with. But my Morgan is still dead. That pain will always be a part of me. Something that is brought home when a memory resurfaces or even when a book character recounts the loss of their love to murder. I’ve recounted this tale several times. I tell it each year at about this time. September 19 is the 11 year anniversary of her death.

I apologize to anyone who would love me. I have a past. I have pain. I know that life is fleeting. It makes me reckless where love is concerned. I throw myself in, because I know that this all ends. I know it all to well.

4 thoughts on “To My Brightest Day, My Morrigan

  1. jillianmrks September 8, 2016 / 1:52 pm

    Unbearable heartbreak, Pelgris.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Pelgris September 8, 2016 / 1:59 pm

      It’s not unbearable. Just continually, terribly hard. I know, awfully literal of me.

      Liked by 1 person

      • jillianmrks September 8, 2016 / 2:03 pm

        The pain of loss is uncurable.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.