it Stank

There was a haze, it was smoking. It seethed from his pours. It was not of my world.

I could see it, clearly, intellectually, as being fear-based, but it felt more like evil, like Hades. It smelled. It made sounds I did not want to hear.

It was a void, a vacuum; one of no joy, no love.

I knew I could never love it, this thing, this one planed entity so void of substance.

I moved away from it, instinctively. It came closer, urging me. Urging me to hear, to see, to validate. I knew now, in this moment, I could never go back to the past in my present form. I would never have to go back, for anyone or anything. I would never have to act like anything or anyone wanted me to, ever again.

I'd seen this, rarely, in my intervention work. I had laughed. These people had, literally, no power. They were simpletons, morons, twits. They were an unavoidable hindrance though, a part of the deal.

They beckoned. If we could just shift our attention to them, everything would be more interesting wouldn't it? We would not have to do this work would we?

They'd talk at me, incessantly, for hours if allowed; what they liked, what they did, what they'd done and what they wanted to do, always, for themselves. It was uncanny, eerie. At first, I'd just wanted to say "stop please, can we work on...", or, "hey, can you stop a minute so we can talk about your son....", or "sir, please if I may, please, sir...." or,  STOP you idiot can you stop talking about yourself for one frigging second!

But, my own Co Dependency keeps me from calling these idiots out like they should be called out and stopped, for once. But, I'm learning, slowly, that the very thing they need is for someone, anyone, to hold them accountable. When I get on this side of the argument, if I have enough energy left, I go after them.