the truth

the truth is you cant fix crazy she told me. and i believe her now more than ever before. we watched the forest of families and friendships burn from the edge, sometimes still feeling the cool of the other side, sometimes feeling the burn. the person we spoke of lit matches with lies and gossip, imaginary scandals and then waited. and waited. waited to see which ones would take, fanned by her well disguised intentions and which ones would simply die out without any kindling to spark.

and i wonder from time to time how the fires are burning around her right now. i think of her, of her family unknowingly drowning in her toxicity and choking on her smoke and wonder what their future will be. what the future holds for the landscape of ashes she has created. my burns have healed, only on occasion do i even notice their scars, but they remain scars just the same. evidence of her love of fanning the flames. our friendship ended even quicker than it began. it wasnt a choice as much as a necessity to protect myself and my family. its dangerous to keep an arson in your midst when your shortcomings create sparks. those sparks, with the right person, can destroy an entire landscape with catastrophic results.

and im smarter now (though i thought i was smarter then) and i can see the benefits of what ive learned. i can now recognize the smell and sound of a match as it is being struck and am no longer drawn to the warming and disarming small flame. i see the potential wildfire in my own choices as well as the ashes left behind. i can sense the motives of arsonists around me, almost always self seeking and self promoting, leaving charred landscapes in their wake only to come in after the smoke has cleared and pretend to help in the recovery and rebuilding of lives. i have grown fiercely protective of my own trees and do more to care for them than before. and while there are certainly phoenixes that will arise from ashes; i have witnessed them around me and around her, theyre flight is hindered by where they have arisen from. perhaps that is my hope for her own children, for her own husband and undoubtedly the countless others caught in her blaze, that one day they will all arise from charred remains and take flight. that they would reach happiness and health. balance and love. and of course the peace and sanity that cannot thrive in her presence. and for myself, for the multitude of lessons i have learned, i pray for a heart of compassion and forgiveness even while acknowledging the truth that you really cant fix crazy.