Burn, baby, burn...

For the last 7 weeks I've been carrying a photo in my wallet. Why, I am not really sure. Maybe hoping? Maybe confused? Maybe hurting? I don't think I'll really ever know.

I've not been given a chance for closure with the person in that photograph. That person has run from me and the situation that was caused like the coward I refused to see that he really was. Now I know better. Still, since I can't yell, scream or hit, I need closure.

I took that photo into my kitchen. I got the lighter. And lit him on fire. It took a few times, much to my frustration. But it was nice to watch that little photo shrivel up and burn, the remnants turning black. And now in the garbage.

Where he belongs.