Nobody has the right to hold you prisoner to your mistakes when they don’t know a damn thing about the choices you had to choose from and how hard you fought just to survive.
You built until you were whole again; stronger than you had ever been, put back together with courage and resilience and worth and strength and the wisdom of one who has survived the storm.
A heart that is betrayed is changed forever.
To know depression is not failure. To know it is not weakness. To know there is no fault and no blame. To know how strong we really are to continue the fight when every breath is a battle won. To know we are doing the best we can, and that will always be enough.
Piece by piece, you ripped yourself apart. Piece by piece, you gave yourself away.
Dear woman, pick up your heavy burdens. You have dwelled long enough in your spaces of regret.
Broken, she knows what it means to suffer. But out of the depths of her suffering, she has come to understand love. And her guarded heart waits for the one who understands it too.
My warrior heart beats again, the one he tried to destroy. The one he almost destroyed. But not quite. Here, in this place, I once again find life.
Those around me are uncomfortable with my response. They would rather I just find a way to deal with it, get over it. Mess on the floor makes people nervous. But I refuse to force myself to smile to please a world that likes everything to look pretty.
It used to be enough, back then—back when love was shiny and new. But summer skies are soon defeated by dark-coloured clouds as cherry trees stand naked and forlorn in the starkness of winter and golden light recalls something beyond your grasp.