The Domino Effect

Who hurt you? The first question comes to mind when I open my mouth to greet her. Although it wasn’t the easiest to reach, I knew her heart was pure. Gentle to the touch yet stubborn as a bull, she made it hard to resist her. Unintentionally, she sank her hooks in me. She was the calm before my storm. A thunderous, darkening storm with lightning that graciously exposed the paternity of my brother and me. Though the gloom of it all lingered above both our heads, the winds that accompanied the storm were the breath of fresh air that I needed. Instead of the hovering clouds producing gazillions of little droplets of rain, they showered me with new siblings, nieces, nephews, sister-in-laws, and brother-in-laws. For so long, it had just been me, my mother, my cousins, and my brother. But then there was her and eventually them. Simultaneously, I found my father and my forever. And I was ready for whatever when it came down to them both. Victim of my despair. That’s what I believe him to be. Why must you continue hurting yourself to love me? It’s the question I desperately want to ask the man who sees no flaws in such a flawed woman. Persistent, he was—unintentionally making it most difficult to bury my trauma. Forgetting the past and what it had done to me wasn’t easy. I lived with the consequences of it all each and every day. But him, he made me want to. The issue was I couldn’t. Not for him. Not for me. Not for our future. So, instead of stringing him along, I prayed each day that he’d find someone to fill the void that his heart must’ve suffered from because I couldn’t. But he didn’t want anyone else. He wanted me. I just didn’t have myself to give. Not to him… and not even to me.