Where do I start? When does the truth become a bad idea? How do you decide that the truth is too painful for someone to hear and to keep it locked inside of you? What do you do when you can’t do that anymore? How do you let someone in without compromising their well being in the process when the truth is too painful to be heard? Is it even possible?
Do you think that self torture is the answer? Is the solution to the agony more suffering? Does there come a point where the suffering becomes a catharsis? Does there come a point where the pain begins to heal? Do the wounds ever scar over leaving the memories of the pain but not the actual pain?
My suffering is all mine, I ask no one else to take blame. I ruined my life by myself; yes it was alone only me. I didn’t need a helping hand. I didn’t need a push over the edge. I made my choices and must live with the consequences. I made my bed and now must lie in it. I’m cold . . . I’m heartless . . . I am worthless and I will never be anything but.
Do I honestly believe that? I may in some ways . . . I can’t help it. I’ve hurt people that I wanted to shelter; I’ve damaged souls that I tried to save. I spent my time building something up only to tear it down. I let fear ruin something in my life that I desperately needed. Now I must search and pray and hope to once again find that place that I never even knew was there.
Yeah, that is it; I am all of those things. However, I am also so much more. I am stronger than I once thought while at the same time weaker than I ever imagined. I did what I needed to do which took more strength than I knew I had . . . I sheltered myself away due to fear and that made me weaker than I ever dreamed I was. How can I be such a contradiction? I guess it is part of being me . . .
The thoughts, the actions, the feelings, the tears, the sighs, the laughter, and the disappointment they are all a part of being me. I’m sorry that I am not what you wanted me to be . . . But I am who I am and I will never be anything but . . .
