Vulnerability Is Not My Forte

I did it.
I got through it.

I told my truth, told of my hurt, the betrayal, the similarities, and I got to the other side...with only a few tears shed.

He didn't back away, he didn't look at me like I'm some hideous monster, he didn't get angry or mad at what I had to say.

He couldn't hold my hand... I was driving.

He slid his hand between my arm and my side, and held my arm as I drove and continued to pour out the emotions, thoughts, and feelings that had been bogging me down.

When I stopped the car at the end of the journey... I felt lighter. Even a bit more free.

I forgave him, though I hadn't forgotten, there was an ache that I had still been covering up and holding back.

I'm not good with rejection - not being able to tell my truth fully and on my terms feels like a door closing in my face.

I need to be heard and understood while bleeding out vulnerability and fear. I don't need prompt responses, I need well thought out understanding and patience, as I scrub my mind of the atrocities, as they fade away and are replaced by beauty.