6 months

It’s been six months.

And so many things have changed. So many people have vanished from my life all because that one life ended. I’m the one holding the remains of a life that no one got to see. No one got to experience. They get to hold onto the memories of the life they loved and enjoyed. While I carry the scars of the life I came to fear and hate. It’s been 6 months and I still can’t freely talk about what happened. Because people would rather believe the good that was faked over the bad that is truth.

It’s been 6 months since I was set free. The invisible bars that held me here were broken open. But I didn’t see. That’s the thing with abuse. It doesn’t always come with visible broken bones and bruises. Most times, it comes with shattered dreams, broken hopes and scars no one can see. I didn’t even recognize it for months. Yes it is possible to be so broken, so manipulated, so destroyed that you do not see it for what it is. It started slowly and became so encompassing that there was no way out. I lost so much, but most of all I lost me. Lost sight of my worth. Lost connection with people that mattered. Lost joy in things that were uniquely me. So much so, I don’t know if I can find them again. Not the way they were.