You've got to believe me when I say I want to let it go. Really.
I'm tired of feeling angry and hurt and upset. I'm tired of the sleepless nights and the constant replaying of her words in my mind. I'm tired of thinking of the what ifs - what if I had said this? or perhaps this? or what if this had happened instead? and what if she says this when we next meet?
I'm tired.
I want to sleep without having to watch TV till my eyelids droop and my mind goes fuzzy with fatigue.
I want to get through a day without having to carefully lock away that anger and resentment that simmers just below the surface, always, always.
I want to pray without crying at the wrong that's been done to me.
Believe me.
Don't say it wasn't a big deal. It is. Don't say I should just let it go. There is no "just" to doing it.
Can you not see that it was a brutal attack? One that left me wounded and bleeding?
Wounds do not heal in a day.
Help me, won't you? Help me heal. Comfort me when the anger resurfaces. Soothe me when the healing wounds itch and tempt me to scratch at scabs. Don't scold me, don't make light of what I feel. Don't force me to a place where you leave me no choice but to lock a part of myself away in silence. I need someone else, besides myself, to recognise that my wounds are real.
