I used to carry the mistakes of others around in the basket of my heart, each mistake added only made the weight heavier. I wore a backpack full of secrets and lies and sad eyes up the mountain everyday. Walking became harder. Breathing was a struggle; like I was drowning under the pressure to be everything to everyone else. Add another rock to my load, I won’t break.
You always added the rocks, even after you were gone, you always found a way to add another rock. I never liked having to tiptoe around you. Careful of what I said. Cautious of what I did. Fearful that one wrong move would break you. It was like playing a game of chess that I would always lose.
I thought it was me. For a really long time, I thought it was me. I thought I was the problem but really you were the mistake I couldn’t fix. I tried super gluing you together. I thought fixing you would keep me from being broken. That holding you together would keep me together. I thought love could do it. I thought you could be like one of those beautiful stained glass pieces you see in cathedrals but what they didn’t tell me was that you were already broken before you got to me and no amount of super glue or pretty paint could fix that.
Because of you, I learned at a young age how to play hide and seek. This wasn’t the innocent hide behind a tree and count to 10, oh no. This was the “your eyes are cloudy and your hands are shaking so I will sit in my closet so I don’t break you.” Playing chess with your soul was not my intentions for my childhood.
I lost that game of hide and seek with you and maybe that’s why I continued to play hide and seek throughout my teenage years. Like I needed to make up for that one loss. But I’m not interested in hide and seek anymore. No more hiding. I just want to seek and I want someone to seek me.
I always thought it was me. That I was the reason for you leaving. The reason no one ever got close enough to stay. Like I was walking around with caution tape around me that everyone else could see but I couldn’t. Neon lights flashing, “stay away from her.” I thought it was me. All those years. I thought it was my fault. It took me 20 years to realize, to fully realize, that it was never me. You were the one who made the mistakes, the choices, the decisions. I was just an innocent pawn used in your game in your hell fire game of chess.
I used to think that I wasn’t good enough for her but looking back I realize I was wrong, she was the one who wasn’t good enough for me. The thing about having your heart-broken when you’re a child, when the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally don’t, it makes you one of the resilient ones. When you know what its like to watch your world come crashing down around you, it makes you one of the fighters. Two options. We all have two options. To let our circumstances defeat us or let our circumstances make us stronger.
The thing about humans is we build castles with our fears and sleep in them like kings and queens but we don’t have to live out our lives defined by the damaging things that have happened to us. I get it. We’ve all been there. We’ve all had that moment when we think to ourselves, “just how much more can I take? just how much more are you gonna throw at me God?” And that’s the thing. We throw it all back to Him in a pity match of why me’s and victim cards. When it all comes down to it, down to the core of it all, I don’t want to live my life full of victim cards and pity matches and blame games. God’s given me the story He’s written for a reason. It’s not doing anyone any good by keeping it to myself. It’s selfish of my to keep the heartbreaks and trials and battles lost and triumphs to myself. I want to use my story, I want God to use me and at the end of it all, when all is said and done and I meet my Maker, I hope that I can look at Him and He can be grateful that He gave a story to someone who used every ounce of her talent to share it.