Finding Daisies

by Jessica Jocelyn

I wonder sometimes who I could’ve been had he loved her right had he loved us right.

he was the first man to say he was glad I was his, and the first man to deny my existence. he was the first man to say he’d stay for always, and the first man to walk out the door. he was the first man to proclaim undying love for me, and the first man to prove he didn’t mean it. he wouldn’t be the last man to do all these things, but there’s just a certain wound that forms when that man is the one who created you.

ok 5 pages in and already crying

he never ends up coming and not the day after that, either. her physical body went back into the house but not her whole heart- in a way she will always be that little girl

waiting on the porch for someone who will never come.

is heaven a destination or a place that is easily touched?

scars lined his arms and I’d ask why he would do that to himself? I would rather feel this than what I feel inside.

the doctors and therapists tell me it’s just a phase that it can be normal to be so sad all the time. here, take this, come back in two weeks. I’m still so sad what else can I do? I just want to feel okay. here, take more, come back in two weeks. I don’t know how to explain this I don’t want to die, but I just can’t bear to exist right now. here, let’s add another pill for you to take this is just a phase and this will help you get over the slump. just a phase? it’s not just a phase if I can feel my will to stay slowly erode with each passing day. but maybe if I’m zombified, I won’t care

“then you cannot possibly love me, until you love her.”

if the time ever comes when you lose yourself, I will never stop looking for you. I will be the one in the dark, holding a torch, to help guide you home.

when going through hard times, in very young adulthood through tears, I asked my grandmother what if I can never forgive him? I’m supposed to forgive. she took me in her arms and with all the certainty in her body told me we are imperfect humans, sometimes we just may never forgive but what we can’t forgive Jesus will cover. I looked at her and thought about all the times I felt I should’ve been protected and kept from many bad situations way beyond my years and control. Jesus forgives you, mija she softly said as she stroked my head. I blinked I forgive Him, as well.

feel I may have reached a point where I became the very monster I spent my life trying to destroy. they were never hiding under my bed but rather came in the form of a beautiful face or a soft loving hand. I feel I may have reached a point where I didn’t have time to decipher between who was good and who wasn’t so, I struck first and I struck hard enough that they’d never bother to get back up.

anxiety and depression are my hidden gifts. they are the parts I keep for myself. the ones I give to others are the giant smiles and laughter. when you hurt under the surface, no one can see it or help you. so, it continues to grow like cancer in a way that by the time it does come about, it’s now too late.

because no one can gaslight me better than myself.

if you’re going to stab me in the back, turn me around first, look me in the eye. stab me in the front instead. it’s the least you could do.

they tell me to be grateful for the pain, that it has shown me how strong I can be. they speak of resilience. maybe I already knew that strength inside. maybe I didn’t need something so painful to show me. maybe I’d rather be the girl I was before. the one who believed in magic and happy ever afters. maybe I’d rather have that innocence back, be that small naive girl once more. maybe I’d rather base my worth off how much beauty surrounds me and not how many times I crawled back up. maybe I’d rather know the girl I could’ve been. sometimes all I think about is her

I truly think that forgiveness means different things to different people. forgiving means letting go of the pain, but I’m terrified that if I let go, I will forget and I don’t want to forget. I need to always remember how it felt so, it can guide me.

all my life, I’ve been loved (or thought I was) by people who have always given me bare minimum but I’m here to tell you (them) that you get no praise for being bare minimum. not here not now and definitely never from me.

my path was never easy and things happened to me that I never deserved. I tried to fight hard against them and never accept it but the hard truth is that they happened- they are a part of me a part of my story and in between the hardest chapters to read are beautiful moments amazing things and no amount of tragedy can take that from me.

should we drown in these tears or run and gather supplies to build a boat? sink or swim? we get to decide.

love yourself first irrevocably, unconditionally. the rest will fall into place.

not everyone is meant for the healing journey and not all of us arrive at that same finish line. some will stay marching in place to the beat of the very drum that broke them but never even make it a foot away. healing is a very messy ride that requires work that some just will never have it in them to put forth, but, here you are peeling yourself off the floor, wiping away the smeared makeup from yesterday, and strapping on those boots for the long road ahead. the ugly, dark road that you have no choice but to travel through to get to the other side. be proud of the strength that you have because everyone suffers but not everyone decides to heal and healing is not for the weak.

I gave everyone watered down versions of myself to drink. I did not see the value in myself so, I looked for it in the reflection in their eyes. I carefully chose how much and how often they’d get to take me in it turns out, the only validation I needed was from myself. once I realized I am an acquired taste but still a good woman still worthy and true love is without conditions.

when you finally find your voice, not everyone will like it and some may not stay. your voice will draw lines in the sand and those lines will create boundaries. those boundaries will end up protecting you from the people who benefitted from you having none. never lower your voice again

it takes a brave person to sit in their pain and just be.