Coin, Flipped

At the suggestion of a friend, I've decided that a pilgrimage to this humble home of mine was in order. It is strangely timed, as my last post was a year ago tomorrow.

In adherence with tradition, I return here at a time when my heart is hurting - wounded as a result of a series of events shifted into motion by my own hand. Perhaps it is karmic retribution upon me, the all-too-familiar sting of rejection coming a mere week after inflicting the same wound upon someone else.

I took a chance, risking such hurt, by dropping my armor and cloaking myself only in honesty - a thin veil indeed, leaving my heart as vulnerable as can be.

It's ironic, really, how quickly you can find yourself impaled upon your own sword if you aren't careful ... worse still if it doesn't find its way through your heart, offering you a swift and merciful death. If it misses, you're left in pain, wishing that you hadn't removed your armor ... wondering if it is nobler to live unharmed as a liar or to continue on as an honest cripple.

I feel broken, and in shame. Greedy for wanting something so precious after denying the same to another. Foolish for again wearing my heart on my sleeve.

And all the same, I am proud of being able to tell the truth. For better or worse, honesty is the right choice - and often the hardest.

Both decisions I've made in this past week have been difficult. And both have left someone in pain - one a friend, the other myself. The balance is struck, and I suppose that's fair and just.

I have no regrets tonight.