Sides

I once thought there were sides created by a Denny's table and a few cups of coffee. Too afraid to choose, I sat down as custom demands: the couple on one side and the replaceable on the other. I believed so firmly in sides. Us against them. You against her. Me against you. Pick a side. Pick a side. Pick a side.

Despite my fervor for sides, I refused to commit to a single party. I was to be on all sides of this mangled polygon. In my blind conviction, I did not realize that I was a side of my own. By trying to take part in every edge, I was further mangling our little form. A fracture turned the shape into nothing but a line of former connections; we were sided and separate.

Alone and on the wrong side, so it seemed, aching factions attracted one another; sides banded together. Memory recalls the desperate need to feel whole and the violent clinging to any side linked to your own by a thread. We tried reforming into figures, but us and them, us and them, us and them hammered aggressively at our weakened frame.

I despised the sides because I felt coerced to join one. Us and them. I did not want to be on a side I hadn't chosen freely.

Or had I? My arrogant apology in the crushing wave of betrayal had chosen and eventually, I was pushed aside and wanting. Looking for something to blame, I condemned every other side but my own.

I remained that way until time pointed out the fault in my side—a sort of appendicitis that would continue to fester until the tissue was removed. My thoughts began to cut away at the infected side. In the remaining crevasse, a sincere and remorseful heart was freed. I had done the damage; I was repentant.

The crack demanded that I hold a grudge against myself, but gradually, even that lesion healed over. I realized that sides were unnecessary for survival. If I was to be on a side, I would henceforth be on the side of book spines, boating at dusk, rolling in the grass, cups of coffee, and laughter. No longer us and them—only an open circle, imperfect, but receiving and pouring forth from all angles. Side-less.