listen, okay? and listen to me.
a bit after things have calmed down, and you only think about them from time to time, you're going to be reminded of them. and it's going to hurt.
you're gonna stand there, or maybe sit, and your brain's gonna repeat that old familiar mantra of "run, run, run" and you are going to curl up into a little ball in your head and whisper to yourself, not safe. not safe. not safe.
you're going to be stuck back in that old black box with fingernail marks gouged into the walls for a few minutes, and that's okay. that's normal.
the important part is what comes after.
you've been there before, of course. but there will come a day (WILL come a day, mind you, not "might" or "could") where you blink. and you look up from your phone. and you leave the room and maybe scratch your dog's head, maybe go call up your friend or family or partner or anyone you love, maybe you live entirely alone and head to the kitchen, and you'll think through it while doing other things.
you will be told to run, like you have a million times before. and before, you ran
but there will be a day where you pause. and you turn back around. and you look at that part of you that is hurt, that is grieving, that is warped and pained and tortured, and you will look them in the eye and acknowledge them as yourself. and they'll flinch. and you'll step back a bit. but there will be a day, maybe even further than this one, where they reach out their hand and you take it
there will be a day where you choose life over death, change over grief
and you'll be okay. alright? yeah. yeah, you will. just be patient till then.
