Stolen.


Who stole the life from you?
Who turned you so against you?
Who was the thief, who shaved your teeth
Accepting just virtue?
And did he act alone?
Were any more complicit?
When he would sing, and offer the ring
What older voice said, “kiss it”?
Who?
Fire can’t doubt its heat
Water can’t doubt its power
You’re not adrift
You’re not a gift
You know you’re not a flower.

“I could go out and find so many other girls just like you.”
“If you leave this property, we are over.” 
“So you’re just going to leave me here while you go and have fun and probably cheat on me.” 
“I’ll get back together with you right now, if you tell me where you are.” 
“All I want is to have sex so I can feel better.”
“If you would have just cuddled me like I asked none of this argument would be happening right now.” 
“Do you even want to marry me?”
“Are we okay? Are we okay? Are we okay?”

Over. And over. And over. And over. And over. 

Two years ago to this day I made, what was probably the worst, and also most life-altering decision of my life. It has forever changed the course of my life. I chose to believe what deep down I knew were lies and leave my home. This is a photo of me when I came back about a month later. You’ll notice, the black void of emptiness in my eyes. This is my old self when I died. I believed and felt nothing during the time this photo was taken. I had nothing. I was nothing. The bags under my eyes were because I couldn’t sleep a full night without insomnia or waking up in terror. I forced myself out to Rainbow Lake in the hopes I would have a good time. I didn’t. Darkness. 

Several years later and I have moved back. Everything is the same yet nothing is the same. I am reminded daily of all the memories I try so hard to reconcile or sometimes erase. It stares me square in the face and yells out, “Here I am! Deal with it!”. See the sad, confusing part about this is I love this place. So much. But it’s not my home anymore. Maybe again someday, but not now. There’s too much here, and it doesn’t feel good often enough. Maybe it’s because I’m a new person, or maybe it’s because it was never really my home. I don’t know for sure, but it still makes me sad. And so begins the wandering. 

I don’t care what you think. If I should stop talking about this, or it wasn’t that bad. Because I already feel these pressures on my own all the time. I share all of this for the woman, or man, who might be in this situation. Maybe you are sitting in a bathroom reading this right now, because your partner monitors your phone. Maybe you’re too paralyzed with fear that you can’t imagine how you’d ever leave now. Maybe they beat you, brainwash you, hold things hostage against you so you’ll stay. Maybe you’re trying to save them because they are sick and need help. Maybe. 
Just remember that you always have the power to run. And fight. And to be free again. 

You are a gift
Even if you may be slightly adrift 
You are the most special of flowers. 🌹

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