I have thought about therapy, but all of the things a therapist would say, I have said to myself. "It's not your fault" I have said that so many times...It's not my fault, but this doesn't change anything. Something was still taken from me, something I never got a chance to know, something I will never get back. There's a part of me, inside, that is wrong, broken, and I don't think any amount of therapy or love will ever make it right. It's as much a part of me as the color of my eyes.
I am thirty years old, and yet the past is so tangible, effecting me as much today as it did when I was 9. Every day I live through I am going to carry such divine sadness. It's not right that anyone should go through life never able to truly love another person, to open up completely.
Sometimes I wish I could hate him, that maybe if I funneled my pain into another emotion I would be transformed in the fires of my own anger, like some kind of phoenix rising from the flames of childhood. It's not my way, though, never has been. Instead, I pity and realize he carries with him a sadness that is connected to mine, forever.
Life is so hard, sometime there has to be a break. Sometime, I will see past all of this, right, and see the great miracle? I tell myself this so many times, that my yesterday molds me today, and great strengths were born in the worst of times, but they are just words to get me through the day.
There is love, and good in the world...it is just a lot of the times I can't feel it...I see it, but I just can't feel it.
Maybe, some day.
Another entry along the same thread...
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