I always wonder why healing seems different for me. I mean, others would talk about how they're back to being whole and perfect again after spending time attending to their broken pieces, whereas I always feel like I'm never the same. Like something always remains no matter how invisble the scars look now. My eyes can't see them, but I can definitely feel them with the lightest of touch. Imperfections. They're like a constant reminder everytime my heart fills with joy, that even though I can no longer feel pain from the scar itself, the memory of how much each cut hurt comes back for a split second and the feeling lingers for a little while.
Strange as it seems, maybe this is how I heal. I know that everyone has their own healing process, and maybe this is it for me. To be covered in invisible scars and know how each one hurt like the back of my hand. Maybe I won't feel perfectly fine again, but I don't think it's such a bad thing.
I guess I want to remember the nights I cried myself to sleep.
I want to recall all the silent conversations I had with the stars.
I want to be able to replay memories of my old, hurting self, because they give meaning to how better things are now. They're the reason I get so emotional for all the little things finally going right.
So, yeah. Maybe I'll never be back to my perfect old self again, but I know it doesn't mean I can't shine again.
-
No nameWhenever you are creating beauty around you, you are restoring your own soul