Heal, They Said

Just heal.

Just like that: one, two, three, heal! And it should happen, right?

But it doesn’t. And I wait and I wail and I suffer through sleepless nights and endless days with the memories that just won’t stop … And the elusive healing doesn’t happen.

Oh, some of it does. I heal this piece, but then another part needs work. And it’s never enough, never ever enough. I see my therapist and I do the work but my efforts seem to take forever. Sometimes I think I’ve accomplished it but one word triggers years of painful memories. It’s elusive and I’m afraid it will never be done.

Everyone else seems to heal instantly … Years ago. They’ve all moved on, leaving me standing in the shadows and wondering why they don’t care that I’ve been left here holding the pieces of my shattered life and broken dreams.

You threw me away, you cast me out, and then walked away with my hopes and dreams … And now my healing never measures up.

Is this good enough?

Is this?

What about this?

When will I ever be enough?

Do you ever turn around and see me stuck there where you left me in the shadows and think about me there? All I want is to come out into the sun and find a new existence. But I’m anchored here by the whispers and shouts of the past, and I can’t seem to find my way.

As I walk through my empty house, listening to the memories of laughter and joy, I often wonder if that’s what you hear now: my family, my heart, my joy.

Heal, they said.

After ripping out my still-beating heart.