Writing

There is a part of me he will never know. When he went about the business of destroying me there were a few parts that were left intact. I struggled with the knowledge I couldn't turn back time and walk away. I struggled with the fact I was no longer the person he had fallen in love with. I struggled with my sense of self and my role as his partner. I didn't know the person I had become, she was weak and scared and those traits were foreign to me. I had changed and I was angry and wounded. Through all of this the one part of me that was unchanged was my writing. I wrote page after page of terrifying thoughts, dark moods, hateful wishes. I was safe in my writing, I didn't let him in, it was all I felt he had left me to survive. So I wrote through the pain of loving someone who couldn't love me in the sense I was used to, I wrote through the rage of wanting my life to be safe again, I wrote through the storms of self doubt and self loathing. I wrote and for those few moment of pen to paper I was safe and he could not harm me. I never invited him in, because in my heart in my mind if I gave him access to my only safe place he would eventually destroy me with my own words. So I invite those people who I feel truly safe with to share in the joy and heartache of the person I truly am. My writing is about love.