Fields of gold

Digging deeper. To the root of it then. Back to the start of these heavy days. They started so much like children playing with fire, unaware of the danger and enticed by the excitement of touching real power. She was mine in no time, or rather, I was hers in no time. I was 16 years old and in love for the first time. She was 19, beautiful and dangerous. What beauty...everything about her made me weak. Magnetism. Rich and lush in the summer of freedom and adventure. It was early November of my senior year of high school when I found out she was pregnant, when I found out she had kept that from me for two months and I had to rearrange my life, my future. It took me some time to come to terms with that fact, but nevertheless I am just fine with that turn of events...without a doubt. Our son is the greatest treasure in either of our lives. When we moved to Maine in January that winter, it was my first great adventure, my first chance to be on my own and prove my worth. I did it with my head held high. I remember that trip like it was yesterday, driving across country in a pickup truck, 17 and scared, listening to music and seeing the northeast for the first time. I was in completely, we walked that line together, she and I together in love and determination. I was her man, her number one love and she was mine. We forged a life hand in hand. Then it happened. The hardest truth is that when our son was born, I was abruptly moved to second place in her life and I felt that deeply and it shook my foundation. We were married, we moved back to Idaho, another trip. I worked at a saw mill in much hardship and felt the slip from her most desperate love, to simply the father of her child. I fell into a depression and struggled to find other means of fulfilling my bleeding heart. Music came along and tried to fill the gap. I moved us to the east coast, to Virginia under the assumption of finding something more here to help with the now chronic hole in my untried heart. Instead our divide grew more disparaging. I worked more, she worked more. Deep and terrible depression came like waves of black on a endless sea. I rose from the waters tainted. Before my thought, my soul said "I will find love again, by any means necessary". Our financial stability took off, we had nice things, for a short period we started to make it work and it really felt like a good thing was happening. It probably was. But I believe we both had too much of some devil residing in us at that point. Our last sunny season turned so slowly, it was the Indian summer of our love when I started to build up my new band. When I felt so strong. When I felt the twinge of heartache again and moved on a selfish moment. When I slept with the other woman and made my mistake. When I doomed our lives together, if they hadn't been doomed all along. A few years went by after that incident, but nothing was the same. We were domestic partners with privileges. My heart turned toward still another who gave me what I needed in companionship if not in a physical sense...when she left, I was in serious trouble. We tumbled and spun farther away from each other in a terrible way. I was without a partner and I was responsible. I met someone and began the cycle again...so I took some time around another new year to make my decision. I felt the weight of the universe upon me. I felt the lies and demons within me try to take my life. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. To face her, to face all those demons, to face the lies. To be honest. It would have been easier to end myself. When I rose up to meet the truth, I saw them leave me, the shadows of the liar, when I cast them out. They are not welcome with me. I remember collapsing. I remember barely being able to breath. I remember feeling so very sorry for causing her pain. I remember feeling so very hurt. Maybe we were just too young and untried in life to take on such a huge struggle. We didn't mean to hurt anyone. The love I have for her is like a tattoo on my life, a permanence that will always shape my world, but it belongs to a distant past and different time. If apologies could make up for the sorrow, I would say I'm sorry, because I am. I hope in time we all find ourselves forgiven.