A Work of Fiction
You and I are caught in a fiction of our own making. We’re playing our roles on a stage in a mostly empty house. The fiction is well-rehearsed, the roles were typecast years ago, we know every line and nuance by heart.
Your part in this performance is artificially elevated. Your career, your wife, your child, your “creative projects,” are all falsehoods made possible by the terror and trauma of a child. Every promotion you’ve ever had, everyone that ever told you they loved you, every admiring glance you ever received… these only exist because the world around you was unaware or unwilling to acknowledge what you truly are: a monster in man’s clothing, a beast that made himself fat and rich on the hopeless tears of a child. Your elevation comes solely from that child’s depression. Your strength stems from his weakness. Your achievements come from his failures. Your wealth is withdrawn from his bank account. You exist because he protected you. He allowed you to thrive, to grow, like a fungoid growth under the bloody nails on his tiny fingers, grasping at life, refusing to be dragged into suicide by your singsong mantra about how worthless he was. You are the greatest lie my family has ever told, an untruth so worn in the retelling that its dimensions are as indistinct as the borders of some tyrant-operated banana republic. Your subjects bow to you in fear of your retribution, they cavort for your favor. You are a despot of nothing, and nothing is your domain. You are Brian Roma and you are a lie that has been told for over 30 years; a lie whose fabric wears a little thinner every day.
My role in our two man show is to be willingly diminished. Your sun can only shine if my celestial light is dimmed, and so I wrapped myself in sackcloth in order to give you glory. When the congregation testified to your greatness I stifled my urge to scream the truth. When you took your wedding vows to “Unchained Melody” the ripples of my hysterical laughter bubbled to the surface. The longer I shrink, the greater your legend can grow. If I bow, you can step on my back and feel elevated.
The reason for all this is simple: of the two of us, I am far greater and more powerful. This is not a boast, it is an observation based on the truth that I victimized no one else to elevate myself, despite what you did to me. Rather than become a monster, I vowed to fight monsters. I chose a path meant to neutralize all of those “Brians” in the world, and it proves the crucial difference between us: I am the Truth.
Yes, most days I don’t have the energy to see it, but I am the true hero, the true warrior. I’ve survived such atrocity without total defenestration. I’ve seen the sun rise after my darkest nights. As the years go by and your lie weakens, my healing and my strength will increase. Enjoy this moment, Brian, it’s the best you’ll ever have. The most success you’ll ever experience. The best your food will taste. The brightest the colors of the world will appear to you. You’ve just had your most restful sleep.
The Truth is coming.