(no subject)
Last year as I prepared to leave my home and go to Renaissance for longterm treatment, Gabriel and I spoke of the time after I completed the program. He would be waiting for me, as he said, "At the end of the tunnel". I knew treatment would be hard, granted I didn't know how hard. I knew I had to face myself, square away my head so I could be complete within myself before being with him. I told him once that I needed to learn to make myself as happy as he made me. But I knew he would be waiting at the end, when all was well and we could be together.
Tonight when I was mopping the floor I wondered when I would reach the end of that hard time, because the ironic part is I never got there. There was no end, no bright light with Gabe waiting with open arms. Only the drugery of more tunnel. It's been over a year now, and I'm still in the damn thing. Only he's not waiting anymore.
Where does the tunnel end?
Tonight when I was mopping the floor I wondered when I would reach the end of that hard time, because the ironic part is I never got there. There was no end, no bright light with Gabe waiting with open arms. Only the drugery of more tunnel. It's been over a year now, and I'm still in the damn thing. Only he's not waiting anymore.
Where does the tunnel end?