Dear Hurt,
It's time. It's time for me to deal with you. It's been a long time coming. Twenty some years, actually. LONG time. I buried you deep in my stomach, in that in-between the gut and something else in there.... the kidney? The.... heart? I missed all of my anatomy classes, I'm afraid. My knowledge of the human body stems from personal experience and episode of the French cartoon 'La Vie'. But as they say... c'est la vie! I buried you and you were seemingly fine with it. More than fine. You were happy because it meant you were existing, deep inside of me all this time. My mind thought we were over you, but little did it know how you'd show up in random opportunities to act out; In love affairs, in heart breaks, in hardships. You'd show up with that painful smirk, reminding me that you never really left. And boy, did I want you to leave. I tried everything! Pushing you away, moving across the world to run away from you, lied about you, repressed you, pretended you were GONE. I tried it all. But you were just there, staying and hurting me. Dear Hurt, you HURT. You hurt so much that I let Miss Fear take over my better judgment and together we push you deeper in my subconscious every time you appear. But not anymore, dear Hurt. I am ready to deal with you . It's time. It's time to see you float away... to find another belly to reside in, to find another body to occupy, to find another heart to chew on. Clear the area for some fresh hurt, younger hurt, treatable hurt. You are now stiff in my years of neglect of you. And when you are stiff - you hurt even MORE. I will not miss you, dear Hurt. But you may miss me - because I fell into every one of your tricks, and as a result - you lingered on and on and on. But now it's time. It's time to let you go. Goodbye. ~T.
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AuthorIn April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling. Categories
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