Ancient Doors

Why am I opening them? Revisiting old writings brought back a flood of every feeling, every emotion, every pain. I am past the pain, anger, and regret of the situations themselves, but what I don't think I've done is forgiven myself for my mistakes and completely wrong thoughts. The one big problem with writing things down is that it's all there in black and white to remind me how foolish I was. I blamed myself far more than I should have, ripped myself apart, and let others tear me down. And instead of standing up and fighting for me, I laid down and took it. I handed them the bat with which to beat me.

Today, I wanted to run through the rain screaming. Screaming for my old self. I wanted to wipe the dirt off her face, pick her up, and tell her to open her eyes and live! I wanted to cry with her, and tell her it would be okay. I wanted to hold her hand as she took her first steps. But it's too late for her. She's dead. That girl will never again know pain. She will also never accomplish what she wanted so much.

And as odd as it seems, I feel the emptiness where she used to be. A lump forms in my throat as I mourn her. She was self-loathing, she was pain, she was destruction, she was me. She hurt like a hot knife to my skin, but I knew her, and I was comfortable with her. I didn't get to say good bye to her, my only constant companion. I didn't see her go, my oldest and most faithful friend. One day, she was gone. And some friend I am, it took me a while to notice she wasn't there anymore. I was scared, and I called for her. When she didn't answer, my very soul shook. I wondered why she went away, why she left me alone in this unfamiliar new world. But then I realised that she just couldn't handle the pain anymore. She had become so frail and used up from so many years that she couldn't take it anymore, and she collapsed.

She wanted to be loved, even through she didn't love herself. She wanted happiness. She wanted it all back the way it had been before. She will always be with me in my heart, and pieces of her (good and bad) will remain with me for the rest of my days. She wasn't always good for me, but she was always there.

Farewell, September. The very skies weep for you today. I'll be fine without you, but you will always be a part of me.