A Boxed Heart

I am surrounded by walls, if that makes sense. Not in a literal way, like something I could walk into, but in a way that makes it difficult for people to get to know me. At least, the version of me that I truly love and adore.

I am a very heavily guarded individual. It is rare for me to allow someone to get close enough to see beyond the masks I wear because I fear that once they do, they will realize that I have deep rooted trauma that runs through my veins like blood. Who wants to be friends with the 18 year old girl who has already lived a thousand lifetimes?

The day my father died, I knew that my life was destined to change. Everything that I had believed or dreamed of had been altered surpassing anything I could wrap my mind around. I lost more than I had gained and I couldn’t understand why I deserved that.

My father’s death made me strong, but it also made me hard. It made me see things very differently than those around me. It forced me to grow up long before I was emotionally ready. I knew nothing that could ever hurt me would ever measure up to the hurt already caused. My first heartbreak would actually be my second; a loss of a loved one would scrape my knees but not break them because I had done this all before.

I don’t want to be so sheltered; I don’t want to feel like if I fall apart, I’m weak. But I also can’t afford to be hurt as profoundly as my father hurt me. There is only so much room on my plate. I have to protect the pieces that are left.

I don’t know if a broken heart really mends or if it just learns to live in pieces. We’ve all had one and maybe by design. Maybe we were never meant to stay intact. Maybe our beautiful understanding comes from our personal brokeness.

JmStorm

Sometimes I fear that I am too toughened to relate to people. Now, I can still be goofy and silly and laugh, but then I might go home that night and sob into my pillow until I grow too tired and eventually close my eyes. I speak to a wall or a curtain or even to myself because that’s how I feel like my father can hear me all the way from heaven.

I get scared of my strength, which sounds strange, but in way I feel like it’s created a belief in my head that the world will continue to throw shit my way, thinking I can handle it. I am constantly anticipating my next battle, my next hardship, hoping I can fight what has yet to emerge from the shadows. If I can get to it before it can get to me then maybe it won’t sting as badly.

Maybe my guard is a little too high…But maybe it’s because I still remember why it went up in the first place.

Unknown

One day, I wish to let down my guard without any fear. I want to be able to be free from myself. However, there is a reason why I continue to stay protected. There is a reason why I hide.

In many ways, I am a coward. I am not without fear. I grow uncomfortable at the scars I have collected. I wish I could trade in all the bruises. Vulnerability is a race I seldom win.

Understand that your resilience is not something to fear. It doesn’t make you too hard to love. It means that even though you may not have won every battle, you came out victorious in the war.

Dylan Levitt