Friday, July 31, 2020
It’s been a long time since, well, a lot of things. It’s been a long time since I left my family, ie my kids, their father. It’s been a long time since I lost my siblings, my friends, my therapist and my support group.
It’s been a long eight years since I walked out the door with a new hope for my own future, my own life. I had a happiness and a freedom that I believed the people who cared about me would see and appreciate. It’s been a long time since I have been so naive.
My journey has been a lot of things, over is not one of them. It is a continuous daily experience that has been bestowed upon me to carry with me in all of my travels. No matter where I go and what I do.
John has chosen to share his life with me and so his thoughts, ideas and concerns are quite relevant. I sat with him earlier tonight and asked him if he thought I should just give it up, forget about writing, decide once and for all that I am not, nor will I ever be a writer. John said no. He said that I should just write. John has told me numerous times that I should write letters to the people that hurt me so badly. Because I never got a chance to speak for myself. He has been telling me this for years. I don’t want to send letters to any of them. I certainly don’t want any responses from anyone at all. I do believe I owe it to John to write about my experience. I owe it to him to go deep and write about my life, myself, my feelings, my trauma, my anger and heartache. I need to put it all down, the struggles, the coping, the victories. The failures.
I owe it to John to put it all out there and so maybe, just maybe, we can find our way together. Maybe I’m not irrevocably fucked up. Maybe the road we have been on is worth it.
I commit to my next post being published on or before August 14.