21 September 2016

Vulnerability was such a foreign concept when it came to my relationships. I protected my heart for so long. I locked it in a cage and threw out the key until I met a man and he picked at the lock.

I gave myself to him. I gave all I could in every moment I spent with him. I gave him parts of myself that he would never be able to give back to me. I found myself selflessly devoting my soul to someone that at times came off as an incredibly selfish individual. A year later, I question this night more and more. I wonder what I know now if I would have ever allowed this night to ever happen.

What if I never bought that plane ticket? Would I be a better individual today? What if I never ran into his arms like I had? I could have met another. I would have at a different stage in my life and it could have been a better situation. Would current me ever let past me stay in that situation? No, I would have told her a month before today to save herself. Save the heartache and pain, but it would be in the intention to save who I am today, not to protect her yesterday.

A year ago, the night was perfect. It was what I hoped for, but feared at the same time. For nearly a year, the night was great, but then I began to grow and change and so did the evening. The glasses I viewed this night darkened and reminded of the pain that lingered in the air that I breathed in.

You wish you could shake your younger self. Shake some sense into them and hold them tightly from all the worse things that could happen, but you can’t. You sit idly as the memory resonates and repeats itself in your memories. I began to pray to forget this night and every night since. It opened a door that I was ready to walk through, but I lost my protection in the process.

I pushed my back up against wooden planks on an outside patio. The rain poured around me, and a roof sheltered me slightly. The spray hit the exposed parts of my body and I felt the cooling sensation tingle my body. It was uncomfortable, but that could never compare to the discomfort that he and his friends were subjecting me to. How inconsiderate the whole situation became clear as I saw how self-centered he must have been to not see how it was an inappropriate conversation to follow the event that had just occurred.

I was questioned repeatedly as to why I would be subjecting myself to the rain, but I knew then, I felt dead on the inside and this was my grounding sensation. What they didn’t understand was that the rain was bringing me back to reality. The words I was hearing were only slightly eating away at my happiness, I felt at the time they were killing me. I was still breathing and I was alive even though the words cut into me deeper and deeper.

Current me just wants to hug the woman sitting on the ground. To whisper in her ear and tell her the decision she made will not harm her. That the naivety of the situation was essential for her growth. To apologize for the fact that this won’t be the last time she welcomed falling water as her saving grace.

In her opinion, he was perfect. Although he continuous hurt her, he was kind. I kept telling myself this for a year. His intentions were pure, but how could someone lost in a desert alone ever be able to share in my life and not drain me of my life. He was thirsty and he drank me dry.

He took a part of me with him, that at some days I am grateful for, and other days I stand and let the shower head camouflage the water falling from my eyes. I don’t want it back, but I want the pain surrounding it to subside. I gave him my heaven and he took it willingly. I spoke so kindly about it for so long, but knowing what I know now, there are smarter ways to better my ideas surrounding that aspect of my life.

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