Tuesday, July 3, 2012



sometimes it seems so strange that the events of one life can be so splintered. hard to understand how an event i can barely remember can spark such heartbreak inside. how many small ones inside shared part of that one experience? will the coming together of those pieces help to relieve the ache of betrayal and loss of self that tore thru us that night? Why can't it be enough to say, the past is past and let it go?

because *i* can't let go what *we* hold. even tho some of the memories are mine, it wasn't *me*, the person who is wife and mother, who was there to live the abuse. you cannot take what is not yours. for the last 28 years or so, that night has not been mine.

 were this only one mind, such an event would have shaped the life but not controlled it, would it? Does everyone have those childhood experiences that remain like a thorn in the heart, for all their lives?

how bizarre it feels to watch the words of a story being typed and to relate to it more as one would a movie, rather than part of your own autobiography.

sometimes it's hard not to envy people who have been able to live thru their own hell without breaking apart as we have. then again, there are the times when there is a sense of gratitude for having been spared for a time.

Oh to see how the other half lives! it would be like trying to ask an orange how it thinks it would feel to be an apple.

enough of this mental masturbation. it's time to sleep.