Trading Places

I know that look, it mirrors the pain I've endured before.
Her expression reveals what her heart tries to hide.


Somewhere inside, hiding is not what she wants.
Yet, society and the court of public opinion, threw dirt on the path that should have paved her way to freedom.


Her happiness became a job to big a load to carry.
Now, her concern is holding on to her Joy.
Her rock, her salvation.
Joy became the life-preserver that helped her survive through the stormiest of days, and she knows there are many more storms ahead if she doesn't act soon.


She realized, her happiness was no longer worth it.
When she named her price, and life began to cost her more than she was willing to pay.
She knew then, happiness is not the only and number one goal of life.


Happiness, revealed to her, that just because it makes one happy, doesn't mean it is right and just.


Happiness can come from anywhere, from the darkest most debasing of circumstances.


Happiness can involve, grotesque, debauchery and degrading acts.


It can mean a blood bath, carnage.
Yet, it does not take away the pain-staking truth, that someone who you love, maybe even vowed to marry, may want a different kind of happiness than yours. One you did not agree to or sign up for. One that may make you unhappy.






What can she do?
If her guy's happiness brings her pain?
Yet, his being happy, is what ultimately makes her happy.
Not the thing that makes him happy, but his being happy in general.


The saying goes that, "eyes are the window to ones soul."


I can see right into, and through her eyes.
Especially because I am familiar with them.
The blood that flows through her veins binds her and I.


I used to have those same, unmistakable eyes.
They gave me away at once.
Her eyes saw in me, what I now see in her.


Now, in this, uncommon, unpredicted, moment of irony.
I'm the spectator, the one on the other side of the gate.
This in no way brings me pleasure.
My heart is filled with love and respect for this female.
At one time, she was someone I aspired to be like.


One of the many problems that limit me from reaching out and tie my hands from attempting to help.
Is one of the oldest weaknesses known to man kind.
Pride.
Unlike myself, I had open ears and an open mind when advice was given to me from her.
I saw it as a gift.
However, my life experiences have humbled me in ways I never thought possible.
I commend my past, for have it not been, I would not be today...
A women I love, a women who's reflection I can look at and smile.
What I have lived through (good and bad) learned; although short, death would suffice.


Love is all I can offer.
Along with an open ear.
Something tells me, one day, both those factors may be needed and utilized by me for her benefit.


When?
When the time is right.
Something I don't get to know but must always be prepared and willing to serve upon that duty.


I am not called to be like other Christians, but required to follow Christ (a substantial difference).




If this post is read by the women who's eyes can't hide her secrets for her anymore.
I hope she knows, I'm here for her.