“Sometimes there are things that you can’t see, that wreck a child long before you even know it.” The words pierce my heart, and threaten to shatter what little dignity I still have remaining. She continues, unaware of how her words, though they be true – are gut punches, and heart slicers. She doesn’t know the full story, doesn’t know the scope of everything that has happened – she is basing her assumption on something she has been taught, something she has read, something that only years of experience can.
I have learned over the years that you don’t have to tell all of your secrets, and hidden truths – to know someone. Its ok to keep things hidden, in the past, buried alive and forgotten. Until its just not.
There is no easy way to say it, and no easy way to admit it. There are no words that can tell everything in a nice way with a happy ending and a giant red bow to match the season. There just isn’t. I am tired of repeating the story. The details. The what happened. The time lines. I’m tired of answering the same questions, over and over, with no answers in return for my dutiful responses. If I’m tired, I can only assume he is exhausted.
A few weeks ago he expressed frustration over not being here for thanksgiving. He gave a slim glimmer of hope that he was thinking ahead, and feeling sadness over missing a tradition. The following night he mused about using a utensil to carve up the fresh scars on his arms.
The ups and downs.
They toss around dates, and congregate together discussing the best options – especially this time of year. This time of year that is supposed to be the hap-happiest time of year. But only leaves me with a hard knot and the feelings of dread. I hate to be the downer, but there just isn’t much there this year. I can only force that fake smile so many times before crawling under the covers and emerging sometime next century sounds like a little slice of heaven.
While most people are planning and plotting, talking about trees, and lights, cookies and presents – I am mentally trying to calculate how many days until he leaves, how many days he will be gone, and how many days until my heart will literally explode because I just do not have the options, or the answers I need.
And then the words.
The words that tell me what I already know, just don’t want to admit fully. The words that bring everything full circle, and complete the pattern of life. The words that say it all.
“Sometimes there are things that you can’t see, that wreck a child long before you even know it.”
Is there even any hope that there will be a slight glimmer of hope in the future?