I should have come clean to her, of all people. She had never been anything BUT honest with me. She truly loved me, but would she, –could she if she really knew who I was or what I’ve done?
I’d told her on several occasions, that I wasn’t worth her love-of course, I never told her why. She believed in me more than I’d ever believe in myself. Despite the amount of times I’d betrayed her faith in me.
I never understood her. What did she see that everyone else, especially me, was blind to?
I’ve told her multiple times that I fucking sucked as a human being. And, true to her beautiful soul, she’d try to speak to me about this merciful God she’d found that didn’t care what I did, with whom I’d done it, or what I’d done it for. This God that she’d come to know and depend on was all LOVE, and it was written—that it was SO. He was simply love and the blood of his only beloved son was shed, to prove th
“Whatever it is, you can leave it at the foot of the cross and be free. Leave the past where it belongs. Fucking move on. HE has a purpose and a plan for you. He wants you to have peace that passes all understanding.”
Ok. I’d say, rolling my eyes. Peace and I: never the twain shall meet. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’m trying…
Religion is not for a natural born heathen with pagan tendencies such as mine. Let’s face it, pagans have more fun!
How could I expect to experience joy or peace, or freedom if I was not free to indulge in those things which gave me such pleasure…and peace?
You see? She didn’t know how unworthy of this “peace” that I was.
The shit I’ve done? I was meant to live (and enjoy) a life of torment.
I hated myself enough. It’s not that I didn’t want to change, it’s just that…well, isn’t this the root of my problem? Trying desperately to please, forever missing the mark.
Isn’t that why my life was fucked right now?
HE LOVES YOU IN A WAY YOU DON’T KNOW, she’d say.
Get over yourself.
HE loves me?
They all loved me.
They all FUCKED me.
Yes. BUT HE LOVES YOU. https://open.spotify.com/track/0KtTNo5j8kJZd7d4RJiVb3?si=6NIiipvRR2-9XLEJ-EnxQw
And so do I, my sister reminds me, continuously, day after day.
UNCONDITIONALLY.
I’m having a damned hard time accepting it because I feel the shame of it. I bear the weight of it…I’m unworthy.
Yet, there’s this still small voice (not hers) that’s been nagging…begging to lift the burden, if I’ll allow it.
I want to.
My Power. My Pleasure. My Pain. 