I wish things had been different…more than anything. I just wish I didn’t have to put you through all this, and hurt you so much.
I still can’t forget how I felt…it resonates with me so vividly. I was so hurt. People make me hurt so much. Why should I ever forgive so easily or at all? …sigh because the core of me can’t help it, it’s what I eventually do, I try to be understanding, and because I want to believe in the good of people, as much of that belief is mostly shattered. Still some people I can’t ever forgive, and some I need to know everything before I can ever forgive completely.
I think we’re going to be looking for real family for the rest of our lives…
You’re absolutely right, Lisa. I just always wanted to feel loved in the way I always needed but never received
Sometimes I’m afraid that when we unwillingly had to part ways…what if I hurt you too much that you can’t ever see past it, and that really you’ll always remember our damaged past, our damaged ending…something not ever worth starting over from should we ever cross paths once more and we’re willing…something necessary to forget, something to let go of forever. You letting me go forever.
I can apologize for what I’ve done repeatedly, as limited as the words I’m sorry can be, but I can’t honestly tell you I’d take them all back, the words, the actions following what happened between us…because I know how much pain, grief and the multitude of mixed, confusing emotions I was trapped in alone, and very much still am at times. I couldn’t stop myself, I was in so much pain that I was going mad…I needed a way to lessen the agony, if only for a moment.
While walking with my family today on our way to a festival in the park, I suddenly remembered I needed to throw away the empty drink I had been holding in my hand for some time. A trash can was nearby, awkwardly situated on a raised cobblestone ledge. So I stepped up and threw away what remained in my hands, and decided to continue walking along that ledge like a kid would do, while my family walked on the street beside me. Walking with my head towards the ground and then glancing further ahead, I noticed the pathway ended where a tiny stream of water passed through. What stole my attention then was to me, the conspicuous green paper on the ground.
I ran quickly forward in glee, and picked up a nearly perfect $2 bill. No wrinkles, or fold, save for the light fold in the middle.
I remember thinking how odd is it to find a $2 dollar bill here? Or even a nearly perfect $2 dollar bill at all. People find $1 bills or a $20 bill if they’re really lucky, but a $2 bill…that’s not something you see on the ground at all. I remember telling myself Please let this be a sign that things are going to get better. Or a piece of good luck. I know it’s silly to say or think, but being through what I’ve endured, a series of bad events for so long, I’ve been hungry for anything remotely optimistic.
I used to be a believer in things happening for a reason, largely because certain events in my life proved just that. Things have changed since then, less in my favor now. And may it be selfish or not to think so but that belief I previously had, I naturally questioned it, fought with it, and partly lost what belief I had left in it these past few months. Still a small part of me honestly holds onto it because sometimes, it’s all I have. I want to believe that one day, I’ll understand why I had to experience my family hurting me in the way that they did, why we couldn’t be together and I lost you, why I lost so much of myself and endured so much simultaneously. I still want to hope that good can come out of all this hurt, anger, sadness and heartbreak when I survive through it one day. I just want to believe that there’s a reason for all this…mostly because I’m afraid to think that this could be just useless suffering.