Ghosts

“That’s the past. This is now.” But the past was so painfully brutal and damaging that I needed to be saved by forces not seen or heard but definitely felt.

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After a gang of losses, a win feels so wrong. I keep waiting for the bottom to fall out, for folks to wake up and realize that they’ve been making a mistake. For God to pull the emergency stop button.

I accept all fates. I don’t want to feel any of it though.

So full of joy that I can’t stop talking about it but so in fear that I keep telling myself to “shut up” because if it doesn’t work, then the questions about what happened will be too much to bear.

I’m so angry about wasted time. So much wasted time. I really want to forgive those past experiences that I’ve crossed paths with in my life but now I hate them with every damn fiber of my being.

Pieces of shit situations, not pieces of shit people. Exhibit grace, Ciara. All of it was my fault.

I didn’t see the value in myself. I thought I wasn’t worth anything. So you orbit people who make you feel like you’re something. Even if that something is actually nothing.

This feels so damn hurtful to write but I am so damn angry at myself.

I told someone that I feel so terrible that this was the first time something like this has ever happened in my life. And she told me to “embrace it” because “the past is the past and you now know what you to look for going forward.”

But I keep looking back at the past and break down. It wasn’t supposed to be like that if I just stood up for myself and didn’t accept all of what was happening to me.

I put up with a lot. I lost a lot.

And sometimes I don’t think that I’ll ever have the opportunity to gain it all back.

This is my attempt to write every day in July. To read more, follow the hashtag #wedj2019!

Memoirist in spirit and in truth. Christian essayist when both the spirit and truth move me. email: crjtwrites[at]gmail.com

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