DrGretchenTorbertPhD

It was who I shared my stories with.

It was who I depended on.

It was who I was able to rely on.

It was my beckoning call.

It lifted me when nothing was left.

It was love and it was my best friend.

…where do purple lions go to dance in the rain.

…the interstate…because of the travel.

…the architecture of a house…that was the core game piece.

…a truck, a huge truck…love them but I choose not to look at them.

…when memories wake you in the morning and put you to sleep at night.

Memories…

It was the most heaviest journey that I had to take, making one foot move ahead of the other.

I had to position my body for strength and courage just to move.

Enough said…

Is it me…that wasnthe question I asked myself over and over again. I asked as many times as I was breathing.

I wanted to know if I could give myself an answer to my question.

When you give, help, aid, assist and love without effort and no expectation of the same in return it becomes taxing on the members of your emotional being to try to understand and reconcile to some form of strength.

I questioned everything…

My choices.

My life.

My heart.

My love.

My thoughts.

My giving.

My mind.

My ways.

Everything became suspect and I was in the middle of a movie scene with no answers to my questions.

…when I learn to shut my mouth, my body started to move and my life changed.

My journey became strategic and fierce, I had the need to survive for my mind.

My heart was in a thousand pieces and it wasn’t broken due to a man. It was broken due to my own fairytale. I was leaving the lie within my mind of what true love really was or is.

Silence was my weapon through the word of God. I had to depend on the word that I knew and believed to be true to save me, to bring me to a place of peace and joy once again.

I was called out of my name a million times and by the time I reached 1,000,001 I was done.

To suffer trauma is to try to heal forever.

I am a lover of life and an empath and the pain was too great.

I decided not to suffer any longer and to love me.

The journey of knowing my name and answering ti my name wasn’t overnight and it was and has been overwhelming.

Yet even more powerful is the notion to forgive and to love the unlovable, the unlovely.

Being powerful is forgiving those that will never apologize or will know that they are even in the wrong.

I titled this piece empty and words that are still yet to be formed.

…when your heart breaks and your mouth opens to words that no one can hear.

…the blood flows.