I still brace myself for the blow. Unseen scares remind me of all the places I’ve been, telling me when I had gotten too close to the flame once again, but whether I closed my eyes and deflect my pain, or I choose to look deeper to find what is eroding some piece of my soul, depends largely on where I am in my journey. I can understand why I couldn’t look too close at many of my truths in my younger years. I still wince when trying to look at some of them now. Some of them are a lot like tearing open my heart to take a peek. Yet, I have learned the hard way not to leave them buried. Buried wounds only fester. Fstering wounds have a way of rising to the surface at the most inopportune times. Namely, when you’re right in the middle of some new pain that just proved you had not laid that last one to rest after all. Some of my wounds took too many years to close. The frustrating part is when I come to realize that I am still harboring some deep seated rage over something I’d thought
