Betrayal By Beaver
The pain within our chest throbs with the beat of betrayal. Where once a heart lay there is now a void filled with haunting dreams, crippling agony, and infinite torment. A void that out of necessity could no longer entertain a heart physically or in hope. To bring existence into this void would only cause a depth from which we could never return. To survive is to lose ourselves so we can remain found. Whatever may rear its head from this void next, well we will know we have done our best to contain it.
You know how the song goes....
"beaver's on my shoulders make me happy, beavers on my shoulders make me cry!"
A wound unlike any other. A wound that the physical depth is but a fraction of the damage. The true damage lies within the shattered heart, unbound tears, and twisted guts of our soul. A thousand swords each taking their own pound of our flesh would be gentler, kinder, preferable. Yet, we do not get the option to chose our wounds, we only get the opportunity and choice on how to bear them upon our body and soul. The physical wound may have healed long ago, but the nerves never repaired, a chaotic connection of loose wiring inside of us remains. The poison of betrayal still pumps through our veins, burning, singeing, obliterating what we hold dear, love.
Yet, love was the impetus and the cause. To love is to find unfathomable joy, but to love is also to invite infinite suffering. We will always love, for once love is truly lost, there is no coming back. So we shall love. Love in pain. Love in agony. Love in betrayal. We shall love because love will be our way through.
Yes, if you do not already know it at this point, let us state it clearly. Let us state our love for our cutest tiniest and most squeezable furry friends. Let us state our joy in watching their teeth nibble their way into our hearts. Let us state our happiness in viewing them frolic in the water, as their tails echo a harmony across the waves. Let us state clearly and simply, we love beavers.
If you have not seen a beaver in the wild, we highly recommend gazing upon their majesty. Every movement they make is a song, every buck tooth grin they give you is a symphony, every wiggle of their chunky bodies is the melody at the very heart of creation itself. If you can gaze upon a beaver without walking away with a smile, well we will kindly ask you to leave humanity alone and crawl back into the pits of darkness by which you came.