Falling Down the Rabbit Hole Again

They welcome me back with open arms. Ready to greet an old friend. Each photo is still covering the walls, and it feels like I am finally home.

I can tell they’ve been waiting. Ready to greet an old friend that they have desperately been waiting for. Afraid I would never come back, the excitement in the photos in almost palpable.

I, myself, am confused I am back with them as well. It has been such a long time since I thought about them, and as I look at each one a stab of guilt goes through my chest. How could I leave my beautiful artwork alone? The loneliness they must have felt is beyond what I could guess.

They are so happy that I am back within their walls that I can feel their tears. The dripping of the red down the pages. They remind me they love me. They remind me how great I am, and how beautiful my art is. They remind me that I am an artist.

It has been such a long time since I’ve made a work of art like them. I have been avoiding it for so long, and the fact that I am back makes me feel like a failure.

My bright papers are ecstatic, but I know no one else is. But they’re unaware. I always have kept my art a secret, and always will.

If I tell anyone they’ll steal from me. Show the public my masterpieces. The ones meant only for me, and I can’t let that happen. These pictures are mine only, and I am only theirs.

It is the only relationship like it in existence. So it only makes sense that I am back here. Back where I belong.

 

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