Snowflakes are like lies…

Snowflakes are like lies - no two are alike. You can try to recall the emotion you were imitating before; set the scene in the same way…but you’ll miss something.

The devil is in the details.

And you were never very good at details. You were a mess. A wreck. You tried to play the lovable idiot, the forgetful but well-meaning pigpen. But it wasn’t well-meaning, was it?

And when I called out the details, the devil appeared.

A mess. A wreck. A raging, pathetic, sinister little man, red faced and fork tongued.

I can’t imagine the toll it’s taken - trying to keep track of the lies. That’s one small joy I have that you never will. Even with brain damage, I don’t have to keep track of any lies. I can recall, with varying levels of clarity, the truth. It doesn’t change. And it’s such a peaceful way to move through life.

You stack lies higher and higher, and it costs you all you have to protect this fragile house of cards from even the smallest gust of honesty. You can’t afford any missteps.

But you’ve already sealed your fate.

It will all come tumbling down. The smoke will clear. The curtain will fall. The mirrors will shatter.

I can’t imagine how it haunts you.

So many lies, already immortalized. There is nothing you can do to erase them. Nothing. I bet you spend so many hours in the dark, “defragmenting”. Trying to find a way out of the mess you’ve made.

Trying to keep the house of cards intact.

Trying to hide what you are and what you’ve done.

Trying to put me in the ground, but I’m not dead yet. And even when I don’t have the strength to speak, you do a wonderful job of opening your mouth and saying exactly what I need you to.

Thank you.

Thank you for revealing you.

Snowflake by snowflake.