to. I’d walked too long in the shoes of a child who was still waiting for her daddy to magically come home and fix everything. But the truth was, I had to fix myself. For too long, I’d harbored a five-year-old’s broken heart, one that was terrified, deep down, that no one could really be trusted. I was always ready to leave but never ready to really love. I told myself it was better that way, safer.
