The Words I Am Made Of

I cannot find the words to express the puddle of feelings I sit in.

I cannot understand how I came to be here, curled up on the floor…a victim…again.

I am searching, digging through my past to find where this fits…but it is so different…so strange…

I pursued peace, as I am taught to do, and was hit in return with a vicious blow in the form of a woman consumed by the ugliest rage I have ever seen.  Anger…hatred…directed at me because I reached out in genuine hope for reconciliation.  And the look in her eyes…distant…vague…making me doubt I was even standing there in front of her.

My heart betrayed me and caused my body to shake with it’s racing beat…and opened my mouth to shoot the only arrow I had…the one I had vowed not to use…because it was mean…

My mind formed the right words later.  Too late.  When there was no one there to hear them

NO.  Stop.  Don’t.  I will not Allow this.  I can Leave.  I have the Power.  You have no Right to hurt me.  I am Strong.  I am Worthy.

But I fell apart before the words stopped running away from me.

When the pieces of me figured out where they belonged, I was on the floor in my husband’s arms.  Afraid.  Vulnerable.  Confused.  Tired.  Very, very tired… 

So I sit…and hope that maybe, someday soon, I can figure out why someone was able to throw me down…pinning me under projected issues and warped reason…

For now, I am comforted by my love of seven years as he holds my hand and tells me it will be ok.

And it will be…because he said so…and because I know that if I say them everyday…I will remember my Words.