Bent.

10.26.15

Most people seem to be under the same assumption: You grow and mature and develop alongside your age. This isn’t true. I’ve been consciously making the same mistakes since I was a sophomore in high school. To be clear though, I’ve never seen these decisions as cookie cutter mistakes; they’ve just been recurring choices. Over the years, the scars have multiplied under the weight and height of my choices, and I’ve endured and progressed and proceeded because I have to, because they are my decisions alone.

I’m trying to understand, to put down on paper, what it is that keeps your heart attached to specific people. Why do we choose to never let go completely. I’m not convinced love can be thrown away. When I care for people, whomever they are, I do so intentionally and for a very long time. This comes at a cost.

I cannot possibly move on with my life while I’m dragging prior loves around. I’ve been doing that. I am doing that. But what happens when your present conflicts with your past? What happens when you have to pick one over the other? What happens when someone calls you out on it?

You bend.

Your heart pulses quicker and it shrinks beneath your chest as you begin to comprehend the magnitude of the hurt you’re causing, the scars you’re creating for others. Over the years, I’ve been piling up grief and love and pain, waiting for the day when someone noticed it sitting behind me.

I sit here now, with my past and my pile and my shrunken heart and I’m wondering where to start and where to go and how in the world am I going to mend this.

I have to let go. Completely. I need to set a flame to the pile, I need to turn away from my past. I need to say the words I’ve been dreading and I need to believe them and stand by them and live by them:

You’re right. 

Today’s a long day. Healing is a paved, endless road, but I’m happy to be traveling down it.

I’m ready to begin.

-b

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