This is it. The time of a deep breath- a somewhat content sigh.
I was right, (all along.) I bask in it. I re-think these words over and over, and somehow- instead of finding tears of solitude, or resentment- I find tears of hope.
I searched so long outside myself, and waited for him to tell me his words were true. The moments I felt they weren’t- I asked him, instead of asking myself. And for Christo’s sake… I have intuitions- I have friends that tell me, “Kate- you always know.” Why did I let his lies become my truth?
He told me the whole story tonight- my understanding. This is why it hurt so much- because what I thought, was truly happening. I’m going to start believing in ME more. And believing in my thoughts.
It’s the ones you can call at 2am that matter- and I’m lucky to have a few. When there’s something nagging, when you can’t understand, (not out of fear of what’s truly going on- but of not being able to ever grasp the entire concept,) that’s when you can’t move. Your feet are firmly planted- you sink deeper, and deeper, questioning yourself, and examining every shred of evidence- and in all those shreds- the pieces that you build together from the transgretions others shed- they build paper mache sculputures- essencially useless. Little, paper, statues of things that never mattered in the first place- an altar for lies.
I think it’s somewhat ironic her name is Joy. Like the christmas season- like holly and delicious smelling cookies. And, brilliant, new-beginnings. Somehow, Molly/Joy… they all sound the same.
His will be the first love letters I throw away.
