for you. for me.

There are still so many ways in which I need to be more gentle and honest with myself. As much as I want to be better, to do better, to feel better, I still seek out things I know will hurt me. I’m guilty of buying into the lie that it’s easier confirm my own pain and trauma than to challenge it. This, of course, is an illusion. There is nothing easy about living in a loop of what’s damaged you and broken your trust, your spirit. But there is also nothing easy about breaking out of that loop. 

When we do confront our pain, the most common and intrusive thought is: what if we we’re not strong enough to fight it? But if we let fear paralyze us and we don’t get to the root of it, pain just grows deeper, winding vines around your veins and twisting knots into your stomach. When a wound roots inside of you it radiates out, finding its way into every little thing you do. It becomes a constant hum in the background. You almost forget it’s there—almost. I forgot it, until you ran your fingertips across my skin. Instead of feeling you, wonderful, glowing, magical you, I felt the hands of everyone who has carved out a piece of me and left.

Then again, what if we are strong enough? Let’s say we succeed in facing what digs at us. We embrace it, accept it and release it. We make room for the good things. We even get some of the good things. What if we do all of that only to relapse back into a behavior, a pattern, a place where all of the hurt comes hurdling back at us? The truth is, it might. This is always a possibility because healing isn’t linear. Going backwards isn’t a sign of failure. It’s temporary, and sometimes weirdly enough, it’s necessary.

Pain of all kinds has been on our minds lately. The pain of trauma, violation, violence, betrayal, powerlessness is all exacerbated by isolation. That is why I’m writing this post tonight. It isn’t long. It isn’t special. It’s not super enlightening. It’s definitely not my most poetic work. I just need you to know right now—especially now—that you are not alone, that I love you. I am willing to face your pain with you, and while I face mine, I hope you are with me. I need you with me. I want you with me. These are words you need to hear right now. These are words I need to hear right now. 

I love you, I love you, I love you.

And I am sorry that so many things are broken. But I believe in you and I believe in me.

And of all these broken things, you and I are not one of them. ❤️

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