For the moments when you thought you let go of the hurts but your heart still resounds like a car alarm whenever anyone tries to come near it. For the moments when pain is not an easy fix and healing is the crest of the peak at the end of a path you’ve never hiked before but is much steeper than you hoped.
For the moments when truth sits cross-legged upon your chest, silent, listening, present-- absorbing the rattled sounds of the breaths that are trapped inside, beating to get out. For the moments when peace pushes back the hair in your face and you didn’t notice because your eyes were swollen shut from tears, fear—or fists.
For the moments when you pick a direction and drive for hours because those yellow striped roads promise more than looking into eyes and being held by arms and being touched by hands. For the moments when it feels like everyone’s lying about how much they care. For the moments when you turn up the radio so that you can’t hear yourself screaming—violently angry at God. For the moments when you feel ashamed of being violently angry at God.
For the moments when you realize that convincing yourself to love will never, ever be the same as loving. For the moments when you realize that by turning you’ve brushed against and knocked over the most delicate and most valuable thing you own. For the moments when, by happenstance, your entire reality becomes a mosaic and suddenly there are lines that lead to places you don’t, and may never understand.
I wrote this for me, but now you can have it:
It’s going to be okay.