As we walk you tell me all that you have suffered
by the hands of humans you should have been able to trust.
I confess my empathy with experiences similar in my formative years.
You respond,
“But I’ve moved on and you have not.”
A multilayered insult with very little grounding in reality.
Your choice to merely shut out those memories and those people; and to shun all human connections for fear of repeating that same tortured past…is proof that you are far from having moved on.
You live in FE every. single. day. AR
You’ve shut yourself inside a fortress; walls of indifference so thick that no love or kindness will ever find [ [______you__________]]
I repeat your condescending tone in my head.
“Moved on”
I struggle each day with my past and the abuse that was inflicted upon me.
But I have begun to “move on”, I have allowed myself to be vulnerable, to wear my heart, my thoughts, and my emotions on my sleeve.
I’ve allowed humans I even with the fear of the past creating temporal shock-waves through my system N .
I m o v e: not allowing my abusers to dictate my future.
Every day is a struggle and every. single. fucking. day I wage a war in my head that is physically painful, debilitating, and frightening.
But, I…unlike you…am moving on. I move away from what hinders my ability to love and care for others. I support my lovers and friends in times of need. I don’t shun them away for getting too close…worrying that we may repeat a similar fate of those that have come before us.
No matter how painful the past, I continue to make small triumphs against it. I may live out my days only winning battles in this war; but…
The art of moving on is not forgetting the past exists, it is all the small steps we take to recognize its importance and to acknowledge that we have the capacity to be more.
-S. 2018
(Unedited)
zephyrruse 