She was a cool kid who never had a chance, and it's time that she took a breath, spoke all that she holds in her heart, and felt the entire world that has been waiting for her. You know I always say that I wanted the world to stop until we felt better, and you know what. My world did stop, and I have been waiting for her my entire life. I have been keeping her safe, and I am here now to take care of her. It's time that she laughed, she cried, she gets so fucking angry that the walls shake. She deserves that, and I am the only one who can give it to her. She has suffered so much heartache and pain. She has lost so much of what should have been given to her. She lost her childhood. She lost herself. She lost her voice and her worth. She lost so much before she even knew that she was supposed to have it. Yet there were some things that were never taken and never touched by the hands that tried to break her.
She always kept breathing and never stopped being brave. She wanted to give up so many times, but thought just one more day would be enough and things would be ok. And another day turned into a week, which turned into a month, which turned into years, which brought her to this place today. She always smiled, appreciating the little things in life. She marveled at the little bird that found a puddle. She always stopped to catch a rainbow. She took care of others because it was the right thing to do. She felt the sun on her face and the breeze in her hair, and took it all in. She had a way about her that was never nurtured or appreciated. She lived life in a place between hope and the hell she knew. She believed that someday, somehow, someway things would be different. She spent her time alone; it was safer that way. That is when the tears flowed, and she held on to her stuffed animals and spoke about the horrors of her life.
She had a heart of gold that wanted more for those around her. Whales saved her; gave her hope, and a connection that she had never experienced. It was the animals that she called her friends. They never hurt her, and they listened to her every word, and licked her tears when there was no one to hold her heart.
She never knew any of that and is struggling to believe she is worth anyone's time and effort. She feels like a bother; she needs more than you can imagine. It's hard to give a 50-year-old woman all that a 13-year-old never got. She still tries to understand all the things for which there are no answers. She carries so much blame that was never hers to carry, and she can't figure out how to let it go. But it's not even that she needs to let it go. It's intertwined and attached to every fiber of her being. Some parts are just as attached to her as she is to them. She wants to reach out, to belong, but she is terrified; there is a belief that her fragile heart wouldn't make it through anymore hurt. I believe her. Her heart is so tender, and oh so delicate, even the little things are swords to her soul, and that is how she lives.
Yes, I am still here waiting for her, preparing my heart for that part of myself that is so overwhelmed by life. As I move forward into following my dreams, I need her with me. She is a part of me that helped me survive, that kept breathing when we wanted to die. She forever saw the light in the darkest of the dark. I owe it to her to keep going, keep fighting. Someday, I just know she will be beside me, and I can give her heart the kindness it longs for and that safe place she has never known.
I heart your heart.
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