Psychic Conflict

There are some things I know for certain. There are some things I suspect. Dealing with suspicions requires patience. But patience wars with my instincts. To run, to flee. To confront, to seek answers to questions I never knew would emerge. But when I'm faced with the truth, it seems I cannot find the will to do anything but stare numbly at what I should have known. Truth comes in a myriad of disguises. I blame myself for not having foreseen this. Of course I knew. I just chose to ignore the inevitable. I am a master at illusions, presenting complex situations to mask a simple problem. Presenting people with what they want to see, rather than what they need to see. It appears I've managed to fool myself too. Right now all I want to do is run somewhere and drown my sorrows. If the heart is the instrument through which our soul speaks, why do people not listen? For months I've struggled with this decision. I've seen...I've heard bits and pieces that to me form a whole picture. Now this decision is in my hands. The consequences will weigh heavily on my shoulders. This is my burden, my cross. Allow me the grace to weave one final illusion before my strength fails me. One last desperate attempt.
Where do I go from here?