I could wear my pain like armor and shield myself from the world.  To each person who came near me, warnings could be hurled.  “Stay away from me, I’m hurting; come near and I will bring you down.”  I’d let them know they can not save me, and teach them to walk by without a sound.

Or I could wear my pain like a mask and paint a smile on my face.  No one would ever know how much you hurt me, until it surfaced in its haste.  It would taint every relationship I sought to have, like a ghost risen from a grave.  I’d let them know, “You cannot save me, so perhaps you should think twice before you stay.”

I could blame all those around me for the pain someone else has caused.  Or I could stuff it way down inside of me and blame myself till I am raw.  But perhaps I will say I forgive you for hurting me this way.  I will lay the blame where it belongs and know that the issues were yours not mine that day.

You were not perfect, you were not who I needed you to be.  Perhaps, if you could, you would say you were sorry for loading this burden on me.  I choose to not let it continue to go on hurting me.  For I am stronger that you thought I would ever grow up to be.    Author of The Tin Box Trilogy

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