Monday, March 17, 2014

I am not a communicator with the spoken word, I never have been. For my whole life I keep things deep inside until the fester and break me in ways that only years of emotional repression would do to a person.

A lot of people can't admit that they are broken, I am. I look into the mirror everyday, and I see straight through to the 12 year-old girl that stared into it 15 years ago. I still see her eyes and her spirit but when I concentrate on the foreground, which is the me now, all I see are broken pieces sewn back together again. The reflection I see isn't whole but a continuous amount of trauma, disappointment, and broken hope stitched together enough to make me recongizable. I keep hoping I will one day find myself again but I am not there. I never will be again, at least not the way I was. I miss that side of me before death, before loss and before a string of heartbreaks. Imagine if other people could see our perception of our own reflection? How raw and intimate that would be? Then you think about it, that is what love is, the bravery enough to let someone in to see all your scars and all your broken pieces and hope they still want to love you?

If only it was that simple.


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