Revelations

I sit there in the cool leather chair, and wherever it touches my pink skin, it feels soothing. I am clean. Cleaner I think than I have ever been in my entire life. I sit across from my host and wonder as he smiles pleasantly at me from across his desk, if I have not perhaps fallen into the hands of a maniac. It is entirely likely, and yet the matter does not seem to bother me much. No, what was really shattering my world in this man's presence, is the fact that every tiny little verbal push he ushers my way, seems to cause me to accidentally stumble into an undeniable truth as to my own crimes. I confessed them out loud to him, and he patiently spoon feeds me little snippets of reality until I am able to puzzle out my own conclusions. And much to my dismay, my conclusions do not bode well for me.

I am guilty. I have so utterly failed in my task, that my mere presence here is a gift, one I am truly unworthy of. How could I have strayed so far off my path? Without me even noticing it was happening? I thought, that all along, I had been luring him to her, and all the while, he had been tugging me away. How cruelly I have insulted her, and how utterly patient she has been with me. I am so beyond regretful, that I can barely look at my own reflection.

I leave his office, find my horse by the gate and mount it with considerable difficulty. The ride down the road is pain filled, and yet I bask in it. I deserve it. Night is nearly upon the land, and dusk has stretched its grey hands into the depths of Blackwood forest. I ride at an easy pace, not pushing the little black mare past her casual effort, reflecting on the ride home, enjoying the sting of the motion the horse brings to my skin.

"Do you wish to find salvation in your storm?" he offered me, "return to me tomorrow night". It is my greatest wish to make this right. I have made arrangements for my extended leave and get myself home to set my things straight and get some rest. Something tells me, I am going to need my strength.

I find my bed, and set myself to it, tucking beneath the blanket and wait for sleep to come. But in spite of my best hope, sleep eludes me again. I lie there well into the night, staring at the dark thatched roof above, but all I see is the ghosts of my past, the obligations of my present suddenly clashing within my mind and it leaves me to wonder, will I have paid my penance when I find myself at the other end of this journey?

I have no idea how long I laid there before sleep finally came to me, and when my dreams come, they are brutal in their naked revelations, of just how far I have fallen. Oh the regret. The dawn finds me this way, crying my remorse into my empty room, unaware, unheard, asleep and yet still unable to rest.