Water over Rock

When someone does something unforgivable to you, especially someone you trust and placed all your love into, it never quite leaves your heart the same way. To form that delicate thing of trust, is like dangling all your secrets over a fire pit and baring your soul to scorn and risk the possible fumbling of everything that makes up who you are. 

 I have had people do things to me that shattered my heart and I had to pick up the pieces with bloodied hands, hoping my tears could act as glue to stick it back together. The bruises they have dug deep in my heart have refused to heal for a very long time, and I don’t quite know when they will. 

I have had people do horrible things to me and carry out revenge on me after the fact. These people say they have cut ties; what they truly mean is that they hold the ties in their hands to wrap around my throat. 

I have had people do horrible things to me and here’s my piece of advice: never allow these people to see you upset. When the bile sticks to the back of your throat at the sound of their voice, when the tears prickle your heart, or when anger heats under your skin, scream to the void. Scream to nothing. Cry in privacy, until you feel numb and hoarse. Feel everything you can and drown in your pain under your blankets. Wander out into the wilderness, and sob uncontrollably in a patch of moss and feel bark scrap the back of your knuckles. Feel rocks poke your skin, get angry and scream some more. Do what you must until everything is bled from your heart, until the pain seeping from your tears is swallowed up by the earth again, until every single shard of yourself is within your palm, until the stars and the earth have heard all the things hidden within you. 

I have had people do horrible things to me and when I see them, they will never see my tears. They will never hear my voice. All those glittering pieces of my heart will never shine for them again. I have screamed for the earth, but they cannot hear. They will never have the satisfaction of seeing the pain they have wrought on me, and if I must, when the bruises heal to scars, I will carve them out of my heart. I have become water over rock, flowing downstream, never-ending.

Water over rock. 

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