Today is the day of that fateful meeting - you remember the one that angered me, that made me cry, that hurt me to the core, that made me question everything about who I am, from the sound of my voice, literally, which you said was irritating, to the structure of my sentences, to the way I dress, the way I walk and breathe. You made me question my life, my choices, my existence.
You made me wonder why I stayed so long, when I knew this day would come. You made me wish I had listened to my instincts, when every fibre of my being told me to fly that day. You made me wish I was someone else. You made me afraid. You made me grieve.
I made me strong, but still there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. At first, I admit, the thoughts were angry; my body would quake when I thought of you. I would break out into a cold sweat, and become afraid. For two years, I was afraid to see you, and so I avoided every other page just in case. Then I would write our story, over and over again, trying to find a reason, or maybe a different ending.
I tried editing you out of my book, trying to find a way to forget you. I wished we had never been. I wished for more than 1000 days that the anger would disappear. That the light would come. That I would breathe again.
Until one day, something happened, which I cannot explain. I wrote my way to freedom, where I could finally read your page and not feel fear, anger, despair, humiliation and utter disdain for you. Now I read your page, and I know that without you, pages one to 47 would not have been written, and pages 49 to 92 would never have been lived and written.
You will always be there, page 48. Today is our day. Except today there are no tears, because forgiveness feels better than a thousand days of being angry. It’s not alright, but it’s OK.
Sincerely
Pink Flamingo in a Brown Duck Pond
Makes me shiver!!!
ReplyDelete