painful existence


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I was told that since my accident, I have not been the same. I'm not the get-up-and-go-get-it guy she remembers. It's true. I don't have it in me anymore. I don't know how to tell her that, but it's been going downhill for a while. I've had so many things stacked against me for so long; I'm not crying about it, but the body gets tired. I can't fight anymore, at least, I have to really really choose my battles because there is only so much steam left. They broke my body, and I got nothing for it. No restitution, no compensation, just disapproval, and judgments. My life and body have been permanently changed, my ability to work, to enjoy life, to even make love, has been affected to the point where I don't even recognize myself... and now age sets in. Why do some get everything while others get nothing, or better yet: get the little they have taken away? The rich can buy drugs to ease pain, but those who really need it can't get it in this country because the doctors claim I will abuse it, yet the rich can buy it freely, and I'm stuck to wallow in my pain caused by someone else. I'm judged because I don't have the pep they remember, and once upon a time, I had everything, but now I have nothing....lost everything, and now I am judged because I can no longer touch things and turn them into gold. I have not died because my anger will not let me, but it is a fading light, as my logic continues to dance with the idea that it would have been better if I had not survived. Maybe I should have stayed dead that day. Why did they bring me back to this, and what was the point? To show me everything that I cannot have or achieve? No, I am not the same as before. I am broken. I need you to love the broken pieces that are left and maybe then I can be whole again.