I don’t have any damn sob stories; I don’t have any childhood traumas. They don’t count because I've handled them; I've taken care of it. There’s no dust to be settled, no need for them to be brought up. They've been burned hard and long, and they’re gone.
So I don’t know what’s changed. I don’t know why I see snippets of anger so dark, so volatile that I almost don’t recognize myself. I've felt guilt that ripped me apart from inside. I've felt so sad that I truly didn't know to fix it.
I don’t know where these shreds of feelings come from. All I know is that it’s something new and it’s someone new. I'm not someone who’s used to negative feelings. Actually, I'm not really used to a lot of feelings to begin with. I don’t know how to deal with this other person suddenly coming to realization. I've been here too long, and I've fought too bloody long to be who I am, and it is God-damn confusing to grasp that that may not be who I want to be.
I have seen a lot of worlds burn. I've been watching people cry, sniffle, convince themselves to move on, to accept, to forgive, to change all my life. I have been listening to sad stories about loving yourself, hurting yourself, knowing yourself.
I keep wondering if it’s my turn. I wonder when it’s going to happen to me, IF it’s going to happen to me. Sometimes the storms come down hard, but so far the shelter’s held. I'm just terrified that one day, the roof is going to cave in, and the only one left standing will be the new person. The one that doesn't know how to build that shelter back up.