I still have the picture

I still have the picture of us dancing. The one that for years reminded me that my task was to protect you. I am proud of how long I stayed in there and how I haven't lashed out at you in any way. Not even silently. Not even when all I had was the pain driven by the fear, more real than my breath. No screaming into the phone, no flaming words in the mail. Tell me I am wrong. Even now I hesitate to speak this truth to you, because it might not serve the prime directive of serving you. You see, I tried. That never seemed to impress you. Effort. Intention. Nothing much more important to me. Success comes and goes. But the choice of your actions is something that you can ALWAYS make and direct. I alway had your interests first. You never seemed to know mine at all. You did want us to thrive. So did I. Who knows? Maybe now things will change, I will be a good manager. Shit will stop raining down all around me. And with you at least not physically in my face maybe I will come out of this dive before landfall.
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