Bone-Chip

You were the first person to ever talk to me like I was a human being. To look at me and think, "This girl is worth something." So how could I not fall into the first pair of limbs presented to me? I didn't care if what you said made me cry. If what you were giving me was tougher than tough love. You were talking to me. And that was enough.

Until I was no longer enough for you. Then the tears turned to blood. The loving arms to hard fists. The talking to the most degrading of comments. I felt so broken. I felt so wrong. I was so worthless.

I broke my ankle. You carried me to the back office while I gritted my teeth. You held an ice pack to my foot. You stayed with me. It didn't matter to me that you were what caused the break because you were the one who healed it.

I didn't want you to know I was still hurting because you spent so much time trying to fix me. When you told me to keep running I did it. When you told me to take off my cast I did it. When you wanted me to compete on my broken ankle, I did it.

Sport abuse is funny that way. Gymnastics in particular. Because I'm still broken and you're not even hurting me anymore. I got kicked off your team years ago. But the bonechip resting against my closed growth plates is still sitting there. Like a memory of stunted growth and growing pains all in one.