Holding on to heaven

The words felt like sawdust in my mouth. She asked the question, the ugliest question…and I had a moment where I could answer and tell the truth or I could lie. I could tell her what I tell myself sometimes. That nothing happened and that whole day, that whole month was one long nightmare. The stress of moving, ending a relationship, being alone in a new place…it was all a whirlwind experience. Sometimes looking back on that time feels like peering into the looking glass. Everything is a little bigger or smaller, different. Darker. I told her the truth and she pushed further. It made it all so fresh. So immediate and so painful all over again.

And when I heard Beyonce sing “Heaven couldn’t wait for you…” it ripped at me. All the peace I thought I’d made with it all was up in smoke and I sat there in the ashes black and dirty, bleeding and weak crying for seventeen different reasons.

Making the same mistake over again…I fell on to my knees and prayed there in the dirt that my sown seeds would not bear the same bitter fruit as before. This time was different, but then again it wasn’t. I was careless. And ever since then I’ve been trying to forgive myself for it and move on but then that question comes. That ugly question and the way a simple “yes” or “no” is never sufficient.

I feel like I am fighting my way to happy. Out of the spiderwebs; silken nooses of my own biting punishment. How do you trust yourself when you’ve messed up so many times before, and for what? Love? Is it love? Or is it a scratching post for deep seeded insecurity…needing something. Always needing.

When will I stop needing so much and when will the present in all its broken promises, shattered hearts, tattered dress and scared skin be sufficient?

Tomorrow will be different.

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