Tag: writing

Deception

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To the girl who loved with all her heart and saw the world in brightest colors
Who would laugh the hardest at her own jokes
And would be moved to tears by a piece of music.

To the girl who welcomed all into her life with open arms
Who approached everything
And everyone with curiosity instead of judgement.

You will meet someone unfathomable to you
Someone who is fearful, insecure, and selfish
And you will love them.

In your mind, love does not harm
Trust can’t be broken
And you could never be abused.

You will be wrong.

Nervous

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I know it’s getting bad because I’m hitting a writers’ block. I don’t even want to write.

I know it’s getting bad because I’m always on edge, and scared of people. I believe they will ostracize me. They will leave me.

If I’m alone by choice, then I can’t be rejected. They can’t leave me if I’m already alone.

But withdrawing and loneliness is like putting a band-aid on a broken bone. It’s not addressing the underlying problem. It is a quick fix that actually doesn’t fix anything at all.

Days go past and I can’t help but feeling like I’m wasting my life away.

Not quite miserable and sobbing, but also not happy either. I just am. In a numb sort of way, not a mindful sort of way.

I’m starting to accept that this is getting too hard.

Sadness and anger…

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Today I talked about the trauma openly with a therapist. Talking about the first incident was the hardest. It easier as I recounted the next incident. She pointed out there was something new she saw in me. Not quite anger, no longer fear.

Confidence.

Confidence in myself. In knowing that he was the one who was wrong. Confidence that only blooms out of 7 years of suffering and buried pain.

And behind the confidence, there stood sadness and anger, interlocked. Sadness for the naive girl who was manipulated, overpowered and lied to. Anger towards the boy who stole her innocence with his selfish ways.

I am forgiving myself. I never did anything wrong. This was not my fault.