gagging

I think that what defines us is our ability to remain true to what is important when we are threatened. Think about those who you know who have had their hearts consumed by divorce, rejection, failure, or heartache. Slowly, the worms of pain weave themselves in and out of their skin, eating until nothing is left. Only bitterness and bile. Negativity and glass-half-empty.

I'm trying to rise above myself and look down. I'm trying to exit my body and be my own friend. I'm trying to explain away the irrational by looking at how much worse things could be.

But my fear is that if I'm not bitter, they'll think that I've forgiven them. That for a moment, or a long string of them, they will feel justified, that their guilt will go away and they'll say "see, we always knew she'd come around." That somehow I'll be their secret, silent accomplice.

And yet kindness comes up as easily as vomit when you're trying to gag yourself. You want it to come, you want to feel better, you want the room to stop spinning, so you stick your finger as far as it can go and hope and pray it will come. I'm down there, scratching at my throat looking for the me who can forgive.

And it makes me question why I value their guilt so much. Why I want them to feel sad about hurting me. Even when I know I'm defined by how I behave in situations like these.

My friend Melissa calls me an old soul. So today, and tomorrow and the next, I'll try to believe her, and I'll tell myself that this isn't the first time (or the first lifetime) where I've had to challenge myself to be better than I want to be.