Torn Between This Life I Lead And Where I've Been

The anniversary just passed. The 7th was exactly a year since Daniel died. I have a select few friends from that other life that I lead. I stopped off at our friend Patty and Dave's the day before and hugged them. Patty cried. I told her that I don't break down until I'm alone. Truth is I don't break down anymore, but it's a hollow pit now. It's like that time you got cut really deep and it's healed, but you can still feel the pain if you bang it on something. Or if you press hard enough. It'll always be a nasty scar so you keep it hidden, but you always know it's there. You've just tried to make your peace with the fact that it happened, and most of the time that peace gives you enough peace of mind to continue living. You keep it stored away, and when your alone in your car driving home or in those moments in the morning when your sipping your coffee before everyone in your house wakes up; you take it out and stare at it for awhile. You have to because you can never let it go, and yet you cannot let it victimize you. I spit pity out along time ago. I never wanted it. Even in those earth-shattering moments when I found out that he was dead, I just wanted to disappear. And I did. Or some of me did. The parts of me that were naive to the foolish notion of a love so strong, that not even time or distance could break it. Half of me did follow him into the dark that night, but what emerged was readily filled with new notions on what life is really about. Within this last year I've made the largest transformation that has ever occurred in my life. I bought my first house. I found the calling for my career. I stopped taking opiates. I found a balance with my family, and a new boyfriend. My family loves him. I know he's good for us, and yet it's as if I'm holding back a part of me, but I'm not because it's just not there anymore.
fayntbreezy fayntbreezy
26-30, F
Dec 11, 2012