Scars Revisited

I woke up to face the demon and saw him standing there at the foot of the bed, drooling. I looked deep inside myself and tried to care about everything I saw, but I wasn't sure any of it made sense. I am so aware of this constant feeling, confusion, this place inside me. I don't know if it's hollow anymore. I don't think it is. But it's there. Does that make sense?

I look behind me, unable to comprehend anything I see or why it had to happen, and many times, those painful memories are only that. Scars revisited. You wonder what all of it was for, if anything. Bad luck, bad choices, bad people? Desire moves and is easily stirred, and phantom faces learn to smile at all my weak spots. I can't close my eyes to all of it because of hope, so I linger longer on the ones that matter most, that stir, and make me close eyes, and smile, so I can at least pretend those beautiful things exist, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, reminding me that there's still a child in there.

Some of it wasn't worth it, like poison, but it's over now. I can go back to the earliest part of it all, trying to understand, but it doesn't matter. I'm the one keeping all those things alive. I see this newer sight now, glad I made it this far after everything behind me. There were a few close calls. It's funny, sometimes. I never really thought about it until now.

But the worst of beasts was yet to come, and I faced him with only a little trepidation. I looked him in the eye, ten feet tall, both of us now, and told him to give me his best. I was slightly disappointed. I expected so much more from him. Maybe it was because I'd seen it all before. Nothing surprised me.

He whimpered as he walked away, and I almost felt sorry for him, but I was proud of the fact, stronger, even free. Now, I walked hand in hand with the only thing that mattered most, myself, and the child beside me. The only things that ever made sense. Because some things are just that meaningful, that important, and they always will be. Finally, I didn't have to prove myself to anyone, no justification. I've been quietly at peace, and that's okay.

Only the drool at the foot of the bed remains. The demon has gone away, this time, for good. He won't be coming back. Not here. Not anymore. I look again at the foot of the bed, but it doesn't look like drool at all. Its water, slush, the frozen snow I tracked in before I went to bed. I forgot to wipe my feet was all.

I stare out the window with a new pair of eyes, and yes, things look differently now. It's about time. I know something is different in there, and that my life will never be the same. I smile at the thought. Word is getting around. Someone asked me to be on a radio show to help broadcast my new book. They want to do an interview. I laugh that such a thing could happen to me.

So, the next day comes, and the world assaults me, but I'm prepared. Unmoved. I have bigger and better things to worry about. It's the same on both ends. Nothing ever ends. And the demon, if he isn't dead, can go bug someone else for a while.