I have a lot of "issues." I work very hard to deal with them. I talk and write and go to therapy. Sometimes, after a lot of work on an issue, I start to feel some sense of resolution, maybe even closure. I put the issue away; wrap it up in a tight little box and tie it off with a bow. I breath a sigh of relief, convinced that I am a better person.
The issue stays sealed away in the box for days, weeks, months, maybe even years, lying dormant, until one day it is awakened. It might be a twist of circumstance or decent into sloppy habits that brings it back to life. It breaks out of the box with a vengeance. I find myself grappling with an old demon. "Damn," I think, "I was certain that you were dead. What will it take? A stake through the heart? Unmitigated love?" I feel certain that I am not capable of either.
It's like that movie Groundhog Day only not so funny.
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