When beginning, you separate the chaos, giving and creating function to bring order to the bedlam, bestowing purpose to the purposeless. And when beginning, you don’t want to think of an ending, hoping that what you create will outlast any obstacle and any tribulation that will come. In sickness and in health, in tribulation and suffering, you desire growth and change, but not alone but together with each other, until death do us part, but a snake wraps itself around a tree, whispers sweet nothings into her ear, and the only difference between this and the first humans is that I’m not with her listening too. And though I am not without fault, a knife protrudes from my kidney, and she pushed me into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, so now my body is bruised and broken, a tumble down a cliff side composed of rocks, broken bits of glass, sharp knives and swords, so my skin becomes flayed, bloody and torn while she laughs from the top, enjoying my suffering, never aware that she has transformed into a snake too, that she has been carved out, and has become a twisted, corrupted, hollow shell of who she was, because the snake has drained her of vitality, drained her of herself and taken possession of her being. I’m getting help for myself now, but she tied a noose around my neck before pushing me off the narrow mountain path, tied the other end to the mountain, so I’m still suffocating on the end of her leash, gasping for air, trying to escape but kept here in the fire and the flames, the great furnace of Nebuchadnezzar, and I don’t know if there is an angel with me in the hellish heat that is searing off my skin, roasting my muscles, and making my hollow bones more brittle. I never thought I would have to say goodbye. I thought we would work together, fight through any and every adversity together, rise above our predicament, talk through and talk out all our problems; and I know I didn’t make it easy, my stubbornness sealing my mouth like stitches sewing my vocal chords silent, all my thoughts and emotions sealed in a tomb, but perhaps you didn’t help my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions escape the prison of my mind, causing me to always feel like I couldn’t say anything to you, fearing you wouldn’t understand, that you wouldn’t try to understand, fearing you will ridicule and never affirm me, fearing that I was a monster who could never change— I never thought I would have to say goodbye. But I guess this is goodbye— such a definite word, an infinite word, an intimate word, but it needs to be heard so I don’t keep wondering why you betrayed me. Not only did you stab me in the back, you carved out my heart for some sacrifice, and you tore our covenant to shreds, and lit a bonfire out of them for the ritual, and all I can think is what made you an alley cat scratching me, digging deep with your nails and flashing your teeth, backed into a corner and when it comes to decisions, it’s him or me—but I hope he can fill your need, because I am done— you crossed a line too far and I cannot wait for you to come to your senses, to be convicted and humbled by the presence of your God, for you to answer His questions, “Who told you you can eat of the fruit? What have you done?†while I ask my own questions—who are you? what have you become? what made you give up on all of your ideals and beliefs? I deserve better than you. I deserve someone who will respect me, and respect the marriage, and respect the covenant—someone who will work on understanding my vices and help me change. I never thought I would have to say goodbye. And now while I crawl through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil; I will be healed, I will become better, and I will not be held down; this noose will not hold me. I pull out the knife from my back, start working on the thick rope holding my throat, try to get circulation into my brain again, and as the rope gives way, I say one word, goodbye.