The Things I’m Most Afraid to Say – Volume II
At times I have such a fierce anger with God it breaks my spirit down. And yet, I cling to Him. Some days it feels like a trauma bond. I have to remind myself constantly He is not the thing that’s hurting me. He loves me. He cares for me. But, it hurts. It hurts.
I’m happy I was there to help him. I’m happy now he’s somewhere safe.
Most days I am angry. Often I am defeated. More often than not I worry about slipping away unnoticed. But I, of all people, should know I am difficult to kill. And though some days I have been so deliriously close to becoming a memory, I hold on. I don’t know if that’s a choice of faith or delusion. Maybe it’s an act of rebellion. Who wins if I leave? Then again, who wins if I stay?
I walk on eggshells most days because I’m afraid. I steal glimpses to make sure he’s still there. I hasten my breath to measure the sound of a cough. I live in fear of random phone calls. Loud thumps from the next room. How do people live with sickness? With uncertainty? I cry because I cannot fix this for them. I cannot fix this.
I am no victim in this. Life has been, and will continue to be, cruel to most. And yet, we keep on living.
Something hurt me recently, and I couldn’t find the space in my heart to let myself feel it. Couldn’t quite capture the searing emotions, nor the freedom to release them in which I previously did. Instead I just added it as another tally to life’s scorecard. Gulped in cold acceptance. Moved on. Some things are not worth fighting back.
It is painful to the point my screams are silent.
Why did you do that? To me? To us? Why did you do that? Burn it and move on.
“I need to work out.” His body was different. Bigger. Stronger. Leaner. I didn’t know this body, but I knew this body. It belonged to me as much as mine belonged to him. “I don’t want this to be just sex.” When had it ever been just sex with us?
Still those same scared eyes, though.
I used to think poisoning myself instead of others was honorable. Merciful. An act of grace. But now I understand the satisfaction of picking a carcass apart. I have only ever met one man who understood that type of venom. only a few who were capable of doing it. some days I wonder, how did those men find me? Why did I choose them?
If I must walk through this fire I will consume it, bend it, and become it. I will utilize this fire as a weapon, and I will be a more lethal woman for it. I cannot control this, but I can rise from it.
There is something about the way he communicates that intrigues me. Something about his confidence that surprises me. He treats me like something precious. And he carries himself like a man who knows he deserves something precious. Like he knows how to acquire something precious. Knows how to take care of something precious. His control is smooth. Subtle. Seductive. He surprises me. Men don’t surprise me. But he does.
Could this be a new beginning?
I will forever be changed by this. And while it is not promised that things will be okay, it is promised that life will move forward. I’ll have to find my peace in that.
No matter the darkness, no matter the pain, I choose life. Each day, I awake, and I must always choose life. Thank God it is so.
Try harder, baby. I’m almost yours. •
