The young girl in me, the one who is untainted, unscathed, more imaginative and pure. She still writes to you. Sometimes the woman in me almost gives in and let’s her share these thoughts. But it’s all those years of battle, the good and bad, uncertainty, losing, sadness, yearning and wanting something that could not possibly be mine. That holds me back.
I know this story is over and I don’t even belong in that chapter anymore.
But somehow my heart does not understand. It never learns. How is it possible to still feel that? It will never let go. This continues to baffle me.
So I write and write and write some more. I live through this documentation, this dream. I survive by knowing that no one can ever change the way I feel or how I cope. It’s personal. There will never be another soul that could possibly understand. But I finally let myself feel everything. And I guess I’m okay.
