You can only fold a piece of paper so many times before it says Christ, stop with the physics experiment, no more, already.
Oh, God, it hurts so much. I do try to move on. I am taking small steps to create a new life: trying to find words, trying to speak up, researching new schooling for career, sleeping with my pebbles, cleaning up the house, spending time with special people who see where I am.
But today I am doubled over, a paper heart folded too many times, tearing at the bent places.
Many of us are told we are ‘special’, growing up. I was. They meant well. But I’d like to shake that. Because the logic of ‘special’ isn’t pretty. If you’re so ‘special’, the inner voice says, why this? Why do people turn away, put up walls? ‘Special’ makes you think, Surely I can make this better, surely they will listen. But I need to let go of that. For good.
Comments on this entry are closed.