Oh, Tara, dearest Tara,
Woman of a brother or mother you were, we can only assume you are both. Neither brings a welcome word. A false name, a false life, you add to your pile of lies.
You banished us years ago. We learned to deal with the hurt, learned to move on, and learned to make the most with what we had left. And found we had so much.
By your choice, you remain left from our lives, but still you steal glimpses, peaking from behind a curtain, reading these words of a life you did your best to drive away. Well, then leave us, let us be. We are gone.
And there you are, still secretly staring at lives you so clearly despise.
But alas, poor women, as hard as you may try to justify, the sins of the past can not be washed clean with rags of bitter lies.
Feet do not lie.
Though how I wish they did. Such a sorrowful sight to see. The evidence here before us.
Yet you, you show your blindness to a horse’s founder. The same blind eye you turn to me and my life. You know nothing of me, my past or my present. Why do you try so hard to judge? Why do you still watch, like a voyeur, sneaking glances when you suppose I can not see? Writing your own lines to a story you never knew.
Where do you imagine I came from and what do you invent that perchance I did before? What a pity you never thought to ask. What a pity you never wanted to know. What a pity you close your eyes to all I have done when all I wanted was to be loved. I thought that’s what we all wanted.
You showed me I was wrong. What more can I do now but ask that you stay out of our worlds and words, stay away from the lives you chose to throw away years ago. Your interest would have been welcome in a wonderful way, in a wonderful day. Our open arms refused.
All that we did and said and built and grew was wrong in your eyes. You told us as much, told anyone willing to hear.
Funny, it feels so right.
And so, I must say, farewell.
No more I can say but please stay away; it is how you chose to be.
We shed our tears, learn from the past, and move onto a brighter tomorrow.