Pride

PRIDE.

IT’S BLINDING. IT’S HEARTBREAKING. IT IS A LIAR. IT IS A DECEIVER.

But….

It is my friend.

Or so it seems.

It makes me feel more important.

It makes me feel ashamed of coming back to the place I call home.

It makes me feel as though I have a better idea of what’s best for me than the person who hung the stars…

It makes me feel important, seen, and loved. Even if the only one loving me is me.

It makes me…

It doesn’t ask…

It makes.

Everything it does, it does for it.

And not for me…

I know it’s what it is. A symbiote. A virus. A corrupting force.

And then I remember. It is part of me. But it is not me. I am free.

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