January 29th, 2016, 2pm

“Darlin’, don’t you, stand there watching, won’t you

come and save me from it.

Darlin’, don’t you, join in, you’re supposed to

drag me away from it.” (Sedated; Hozier)

Nothing about it was healthy. I know that now, but those sorts of things are only visible in hindsight. I didn’t stand up for myself, as I was made to feel as though I was constantly wrong about everything. Yet I loved it, in some strange part of myself; quite likely the same part that addiction is stored. Effort, on my part, destroyed me, piece by piece. I resorted to some kind of numb state, in which I no longer thought for myself. It was not okay, in any way. What would be the guiding hand of a parent was lacking in my case, and I continued. I believed that they all knew best, and that I was the problem. I attempted conversation, which seemed to go well, that is, until I would hear back from the lips of the one I loved; “She doesn’t like it when you natter at her,” but was I nattering, or was I attempting to build a relationship? These situations grew conditions, and soon enough, I wasn’t allowed to speak at all. Before I ended my captivity, I was told that all communication, on my part, was to be treated purely transactionally.

You and I made lunch together yesterday. It was lovely. Simplicity, in food, and most aspects of life, can be quite refreshing. I slowly approached you, while you stood, captivated by the television in the next room. I lightly wrapped my arms around you, and pressed my head to your chest, only to be completely welcomed with open arms. I was pulled in tighter, and you kissed the top of my head, setting my mind to lighter thoughts.

David Wade and Shreya said thanks.

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Victoria Wells

I love writing, photography, painting, singing, drawing, and if it involves being creative, then probably that too.

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