Sing to me, Muse. Sing of betrayals and long simmering resentments. Sing of shock and surprise. Sing a song of truth and lies. O Muse! Did you sing of questions unasked and assumptions made? Sing now of the pain and the misunderstandings.
Just get over it, already. That's what he seemed to say. Granted, it wasn't said, but you know how actions speak louder than words, my Muse. Sweet words find no purchase the way what did and what you didn't do will. Will I ever learn? Will I ever understand? O Muse, I freely admit that I have been unpleasant and unlikeable from time to time. But, never false. In fact, Muse, you might say, and probably have said, that being too truthful has been a greater fault than being false for me.
Don't you have a plan? He had said that, in fact, though not at the time. And, you know, I wished it had been him. At the moment, in the moment, with the blood running hot and the news still ringing in my ears, with grief pouring down from on high, drowning me ice and screamed denials. With the awful realization finally come home to roost, a great black crow that cackled at my tears. And I wished it had been him. How different would it have been? What a different life! Better? I don't know. But, aye, different.
Today? It might as well have been him for all the difference it would make. He is the ghost of a memory. An idol know longer. That ship sailed. With nothing left to offer, no more to say, not a an ounce of pride needed, no more advice wanted, he packed up and went home.
Painful it must have been. How does it feel when you realize you don't know as much as you think you do? How does it feel to see that the student has surpassed the teacher? It can't have been easy. Oh, Muse, trust me, I know how that sounds, but don't get me wrong. I know so well that there tons I don't know, too. But, that, I think now, is a strength. All of us know so little. It is certainty that is the weakness sometimes. Inquiry, curiosity, gray thinking. Don't say yes, don't say no. Say maybe. Maybe. Say I don't know. I don't know. I'm not sure. There is power in those words that people ignore and may even not understand.
But, some things I do know. I know loyalty. I know truth. It's in your heart. The enemy of my friend is my enemy. Simple. But, maybe it's not that they didn't understand loyalty. Maybe, Muse, they understood but knew they were not loyal and accepted it. Maybe they had no desire to be loyal at all.
Can we blame them? The wood cannot blame the fire. The frog cannot blame the scorpion.