to be to be to be
Everything I was afraid of happening did happen; I guess it's a relief to know I don't have to worry anymore. And to know that I'm left standing at the end of it and not falling into a pit of despair (like I usually do).
I guess it's a sign of progress. I thought about cutting all week, I wanted to a few times, but I have too many reasons not to now. I'm not as willing to wear all my scars on my skin anymore. The pain we feel toughens all the softest parts of us; I'd just rather take it internally this time around. Let it shape me and push me to make things better next time around.
I'm not shutting down or giving up or tucking myself away. I'm not going to hide in my room in the dark slicing my skin to ribbons with homemade razorblades. I'm not sixteen anymore and I'm better than the person I've been for the past six months. She's still in here, she just got tied up for awhile.