I’m fighting to understand this thing that surrounds me. It is my responsibility, my soul obligation. No one can take care of it the way that I can. No one can love or nurture it for me. It is my birthright…yet I have no gift for its care.
I take this honor for a burden. I just want a break from its need, from its want of me and my want for it. How rebellious its nature. It seems only to want to defy me. We have different ideas for what it should be, how it should act and respond and how it should look.
I can’t do it. Not today. Every chance I have to offer it a kindness it warps into an evil. I feel if given the chance, I would see it tortured; see it squirm and succumb to my brutal force.
Give in! Give in! I pray. I scream. I yell.
Yet its will is like iron. No matter, for it can escape me as much as I can it. But I will have my way. I will see it bend to my will. I will see it held accountable for my actions. For all I am doing is loving it in my way. At the very least I am attempting to train it so that I may love and accept it as my own.
My dear, sweet, difficult handicap, how I hate you.
I could maybe love you if you didn’t make me work so hard yet feel so incapable. You are a contradiction with too many rules. A high maintenance impediment with too many variables, too many intricate nuances’ that only work to make me hate you more for what in them could endear you to my sensibilities?
Meet me half way, please! I beg.
I am pathetic. You make me feel like the bad guy in a situation you’ve created. You tremble and quake when I try, yet rage and react when I give in to your seeming needs. What will make you happy? Will we forever be in this dance of push and shove, of love and hate?
They tell me to just work harder, to do more, give or give up more, yet I have given all of myself to you, what left is there? What will finally be enough?
For I no longer think it will be me…will be us.
Yet we must continue onward for we are forever bound together. I walk you walk, I live you live, I die and you…
Will there ever be harmony?
A break?
A chance?
Will we ever be in love, my dear body…
Will I ever be in control?
Glory Fiction 
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