Are you going to leave me? Those six words are the Borderline’s lie.
When you needed compassion from your mother to honor your own grief, the poison of co-dependency made her shove dirt in your mouth instead of love. She may need you to never get better so you stay. The heart in you must be so dehydrated, from half-built everything that should be built, it can’t turn red.
Where were we then, my dear, when we fought over the concrete ambiguity of our souls? We threw dated regrets into the fire until we had nothing left to burn but ourselves. Now, no matter how thin I get, I will never fit into the cracks of your mind the way I once could.
This period will let you atrophy into the safety of fear to the person you were, or this period is a preamble to the person you’re becoming. The moment of loyalty to the version of yourself who makes the exceptional decision to go, is the moment you will see you’re anything but beyond repair.
What I’ve learned through the divine intervention of age is that replacement is a primary function in life. It’s a relentless process of uncertainty but it’s necessary to grow into passion.
It’s ok to feel that darkness of not knowing self-love, because to feel it will serve you. Who we think we are meets the person we actually are, and it just takes a decision followed by commitment to change again, and again, and again. Don’t be afraid to look at yourself fully, surrender, and endure it.
Things happen. People leave. Life crumbles. Rock bottom isn’t always rock bottom. No one is immune to the emptiness these disappointments induce. To get through the hills and valleys of life with a broken wing, it's hard because it has to be; it's painful but it's real. I believe in this process is where we find that hunger inside us that refuses to turn back.