We meet again like old friends whose hands outstretch to one another, the fingertips grazing ever so gently, ever so kindly. Yet in her eyes is deep sorrow, anxious rumination. She has carried her weight so long. Could she put her luggage on your rack?
We meet again in the cold of winter. Satan has been here, the evil is sick in the sun. Contorted faces writhe in agony, in ego. She watches them wander aimlessly in the vacuous space. No true destination, nowhere to go. The sky is white and the sun is whiter. A mist more like fog clouds the skies and she feels comforted there may be blue higher.
We meet again in the beating heart of my greatest enemy. The beat pushes her down as blood rushes through her and the heart’s walls expand and contract in weak breaths. Her enemy is asleep and won’t give her enough time to fix the heart.
“I want to fix the heart. I want to fix this person.”
She wasn’t sure what she was saying or who would reply. But she was tired of feeling claustrophobic and held down by this evil, the screaming shame of others.
She is not responsible for others.
I am not responsible for the actions or emotions of others. What was done to me was not my fault, and not my responsibility. I can learn to move on, to forgive for myself (not for their sake), and to heal. I am responsible for me.
You are responsible for your hell and your healing.
Most of all, remember, healing is possible. You can overcome your shame, doubts, guilts. You can learn healthier coping mechanisms and how to live a life rich in detail, serenity, and love. But you have to take that first step toward the journey. No one can do it for you. No one.
Good luck. I’ll be back soon.