Endless Iteration

I am still in this iteration.

It does not end.

It will not end.

My beloved found someone else here.  They are married.  They have had children.

My iteration here found someone else here.  Someone imperfect.  Not my beloved.  They married.  They bred.

I cannot even usurp this iteration.  I do no know this one's life.  I do not know anything about it.  This iteration has lived and loved and existed and it is not me.  Not recognizable as me.  I could not take that life. I would not know what to do with it if I did.

I see none of the signs.  The signs are not here.  This place is not going to be consumed, not within my lifetime.  I can feel that this is the case.  I cannot even enact my hastily-thought plan and end it all for everyone.  Perhaps that is what caused the Young Master to strand me here.  Perhaps, he was afraid of what I might do.  Or perhaps I am finally what he always wanted me to be.

It does not matter anymore.  I am truly alone now.  A stranger has lived my life.  I am nothing, here.  Perhaps, before, I was an extra piece, but at least I still belonged on the board.  If I was a pawn, or a checker, or a marble, I was as the others.

Now, I am a pawn on a checkerboard.  I do not belong in this game, and no amount of forcing and killing will make me fit.

I am, truly and forever, completely superfluous.

Which is, on reflection, exactly what I was meant to be.  Can the Young Master actually see this far?  Did he know this was coming?  Has this been what he has been preparing me for all along?

I do not know what to do.  I have tried to end it, but my switchblade freezes.  I hang myself, and the rope snaps, having been frozen brittle and useless.  I jump from a tall building, and hit a snowbank somehow deep and fluffy enough to stop me, even at speeds that would have been fatal on impact with water.  Cars hit a patch of ice and swerve  to miss me.

I have even been robbed the oblivion of the Quiet, save, perhaps, the ever growing one where one, in a time I am even know finding harder and harder to recall, my heart used to be.

The Unfortunate Truth

I have been searching.  Slipping through the cracks of worlds.

I did not want it to be so.  I did not want to believe that I was right.

The Unraveling exists.  I now know that more surely than I know anything else.  Better, perhaps, than I know my own name, my own face.

When I was little, my parents moved, out of state, to a new city.  It is where I was raised.  It is where I became who I am today.  The person who married my beloved.  The person who helped make those beautiful children.

That city is gone.  It no longer exists.  The Quiet has taken it.  It has never existed.  No one has ever lived there. Where it once was is now farmland, if that.  I suspect the planet is smaller now, than it was, by approximately one small Midwestern city.

I never moved there.  I never became who I am.  I never met my beloved.  My children were never born.  My family never existed.

These worlds, these Earths, are empty to me now.  These iterations met different people, produced different children.  I look upon their lives, and see nothing of what I long for.  Killing them brings me no satisfaction.  Usurping provides me no relief, however brief it may have been.

I am alone, as world after world ends.

I am, and shall always be, alone.

I Don't Understand

Where are they?

They're not here, I've looked.

I keep looking and looking and they're not here.

Why aren't they here!?

Where did they go!?

They're supposed to be here!

Why can't I find them?

Happy New Year

I feel like something is amiss.  More so than usual.

I cannot explain it just yet.  However, the closest comparison would be to the old saying, of feeling like one is walking over my grave.

I do not know what it means.

Regardless, this iteration is ending in a few hours.

I had better get to work.

My family requires my mercy.