Snuffed Out

In the beginning the destruction is undisguised. Everything you touched is damaged. Like a tornado traveling across the plains your carnage cares not what stands in its path. Homes fall in upon themselves leaving just a shadow of what once was. The people, the families left behind walk thru the rubble with stunned looks cast upon their faces. They hope to find any evidence of the life that once was.

Young saplings are pulled from the ground unaware that their future has been destroyed—all evidence of their youth scarred, unrecognizable forever more.

So much of the suffering you caused now on display for all to see. It is ironical that your incredibly catastrophic strength was born out of your pitiful weakness.

But it is not this mournful display that defines your crippling performance; that was just the beginning. The aftermath that you snuffed out as if it were a gullible burning candle, is the most damning. You don’t even know about it. You moved on your merry way. Your path took you where most would dare not go. But you disguised your ugliness, ascending not like a tornado but as a wispy cloud. Admirers claiming “See how she has changed!” You fooled them. You fooled all of them. Now you are fooling yourself.

How I wish you could see this, dear Addict.

I wish you could see the struggles made to repair the destruction you caused. You would witness the strife and see that restoration will never be complete. If you could see dear Addict, you would see the dreams that were snuffed out, never to be hoped for again. You would see the lost years of children forced to grow up too fast.

Dear Addict, you would see that years later, all that you snuffed out with your ill-gotten power still wears the pain. Maybe you would see, maybe you would feel the ache that even today causes my hands to cradle my children. You would see my tears falling because I cannot help them, for I have not recovered. Their lives, my life, forever misshaped by your lethal winds.

And dear Addict, just maybe you would begin to understand my own pain. Pain born not out of your actions, but pain that comes from knowing God, my higher power, is not pleased with how I feel about you. God taught me to forgive. He taught me to tolerate. He taught me to love.

And you dear Addict have snuffed out all of it.