This morning I’m back on reminiscing on the past. On past loves
“No, It doesn’t.” At least now I know that, but I didn’t always.
Insecurities hurt. Fear hurts. Someone else’s pain hurts. The world hurts.
I think I have written about this before, but this morning I’m a little overcome with emotion, and all those past hurts and pain and heartbreak that I thought was gone, that I thought I had dealt with…actually, I’ve always known I hadn’t dealt with it. I didn’t know how to deal with it, I still don’t know.
Instead I simply bottled it up somewhere, hoping to forget about it, hoping it would go away eventually if I just went on as if nothing ever happened. But then every chance it gets, those insecurities come bubbling up to the surface. The surface of who I am.
I used to be in a very emotionally abusive relationship with a guy that I thought I loved. I don’t know, maybe I did love him. At the time it felt very real. At least to my definition of what I thought love was like.
I don’t blame him, and I hold no grudges against him, that I can honestly say. But he himself had been wounded by life so I was dragged(since I tied myself to him) along for a two year long ride. We had our happy moments, but mostly it was just one big roller-coaster of neglect, heartbreak, unworthiness and abandonment. Things like that tend to stick and are unwilling to go away.
I still find myself constantly dealing with feelings of unworthiness, it’s a day to day struggle.
No matter how good life gets, and that I’m in a healthy, loving and caring relationship now, I still fight with that demon every god damn day. I can say at least that there are more often good days, and mostly my I have learnt how to handle those shadowy corners of my mind…but those feelings are still there.
It’s been a long time, but whenever my mind has a open space it tends to wander back to those two years of my life. And I go back to the same question every time, a question that I know there is no answer to; “Why wasn’t I enough?”
I’m at a point where I really want those feelings to go away, to not have to deal with their living presence every day, but yet they are a reminder of who I am. How I got here.
I got through two years of that. It is a cornerstone of my life, and my way to the light. Even if I did know how to deal with my past and all my bottled up wounds, I’m not sure if I would. I wouldn’t change those two years for the world, even if I could. It has played such a large part in defining me. Most days I like me.
These days of wandering back they make me sad. They make me question life again. Maybe that at least is a good thing.