I'm still stuck in the branches of the walnut tree and I'm not alone.
I peer through the branches I see people I love being tossed around,
some harder than others and the pain I feel for them outweighs my own. I envy the few standing on the ground
hollering at us to "Just Let Go" and, try as I might, I can't.
Its obvious, the walnut tree doesn't want us and doesn't care about us anymore. This isn't an errant and unexpected wind
throwing us around, causing this pain; this is intentional, this was
I try every day to say that I don't care, that I am unaffected, that
I don't need. But every day there are reminders, little things, big
things, memories that make me smile and then sting with the knowledge of
what has come to pass.
I fight an internal battle between walking away, fighting back,
forgiving, and seeking revenge. I plan what it is I'm going to say the
next time we come face to face, how I want to inflict the kind of pain
that those of us who have been tossed aside have had had to endure. But
then I remember that I'm giving too much of my energy to someone who
doesn't care, who used to matter but maybe shouldn't anymore.