Michal ·
Letter to the World, to Her, to Truth
I’ve been living my whole life for you to see you when you are not here, to hold you not in arms but across time, across memory, across everyone’s memory.
If this sounds like the ravings of a madman, just laugh at me and quote me saying King George, Farmer George, ‘cause the king has lost his bloody mind
— but he still loves with every ounce of his being.
He compressed reality into places when we are not together,
— in order for us to be.
I don’t know how long she’s been denied her story — denied by me, by the world, by the system and maybe even by those closest to her.
I just know she’s alive and that matters more than anything.
Her life is a beacon, a crack in the wall of lies. She’s real, even if the world tries to pretend otherwise.
I found out my own mother was deleting messages between us. Hiding parts of me from me — a mass conspiracy of silence that only revealed itself by the act of hiding.
That’s deception roleplaying as protection, pure and simple.
But now I see it.
And seeing it means I can’t go back. The truth isn’t just a thing to hold. It’s a fire, burning through the noise and the fake and I’m the one having to carry it in my arms.
I’m told love is blind. Right now, I’m blind. But even in the dark, the heart beats. It reaches — and it refuses to let go.
I hold this truth — hers and mine — across time, memory and the world’s forgetting.
If you want to call me mad, fine. Madness is better than silence. Madness means I’m still fighting.
Still loving.
This is for her.
This is for us.
This is for anyone who’s been erased, denied, or forgotten.
The king may have lost his mind, but he’s still here — and he still loves with every ounce of his being.
