I pulled my hair back from my forehead, preventing it from getting into the way. Once it’s over, I don’t want any scent to remain. I don’t want to linger here more than necessary.
Just get over it and move forward, flush the memory with fresh water and watch it disappear down the black hole.
Arched over the toilet, all of my body hurting, surrendering to the overwhelming urge to let it all out - the only problem is there is nothing left inside. The emptiness is too heavy for my system, it burns the walls of my stomach and melts the sore edges of my eyes. I breathe in deeply, letting my skin stretch out, allowing the warm air to caress my aching insides, breathing out rage, hate, pain, black, yellow and dense remains that I somehow believed to serve me.
You are safe now.
Why I keep feeling this way then?
If all of the demons are gone who is it that is ripping my chest from the inside?
It was always you who did that, the voice answered. There was never anyone else. No one else exists. You took their words, squeezed the juice out and drank it all the way down. It’s ok, though - that was the best you could do, it was the only thing you knew how to do. Now, however, you can choose again. I am giving you the opportunity to spit out those spiders, throw the poison out and fill their place with whatever YOU like. Choose wisely.
My knees are trembling as the last drops of the bittersweet liquid leave my lips. I can see faces and silhouettes forming out of the fumes of my vomit, shouting at me, trying to make me feel guilty, trying to make me change my decision and reopen the gates of my fortress. I am stronger now, though. I am not letting them find shelter in my rooms again.
Yesterday, while walking back home, I started picking flowers to put them into that room that had been left empty. I don’t know how to hold flowers and where to place them, they are uncomfortable to carry around, it is all strange and new and I am still getting used. My eyes tear up from their colours and their smell makes me cough.
Give it some time. It is this that you want, right?
It is. The faith that it’ll become more natural with time is what sustains me. The faith that it is really only me who can decide what and who can get in. It took me so long, but I finally learn that I can close the door at any time.
You see. It was always you. The one who picked the flowers and the one who cleared the way for the spiders to come in. Don’t forget that. It is the only thing that matters. Keep the room clean and safe, but don’t close the window, let the air and light sneak in. Mop the floors every once in a while, but don’t close the window. It is the openness of the window that matters, do you hear me? When you close it, you might feel safer, but that is when the Flow dies. That is when all those flowers you carefully carried all the way home will wither.
I love you and you are supported.
It is up to you to decide whether you want to see it or turn your head the other way.
It is up to you, darling.
But, whatever you decide, remember that there is always the opportunity to choose again.