Read In the Rearview Online

Authors: Maria Ann Green

In the Rearview (17 page)

Chapter Eleven

Even bad things happen to good people for a reason

Dear Diary,

I've been strong. I have held my head up high and walked along. I have made sure not to make the same mistakes again. I am glad cutting is a part of my past, as crazy as it sounds. It is a part of me and who I am. Generally I like who I have grown to be, and everything I have done has helped lead me to where I stand now.

Like everyone else, I have my off days. Sometimes I regret all the stupid things I did, but ultimately I realize things happen for a reason. And as long as I have learned, some good has come from a bad thing.

It has been tough, but I haven't cut since I was a freshman. That is now over three years ago. Even with the troubles I've been through, I have stayed strong. That isn't to say it wasn't tempting, that the burn didn't try to pull me into an abyss of darkness, but even through that, I kept true to my plan.

It makes me so proud to be able to say that. I don't cut anymore! If feels like there is a weight lifted from the spot it once occupied on my shoulders. I feel more like a whole person, more fully developed, than I ever was before. I seem to be happier on a much more regular basis. For once in a long, long time I feel like I'm allowed to be happy. I want to be happy. I actually am, and it feels so good.

I know the urge may come back every once in a while, but I feel like I am prepared for that. I feel like I can conquer the world and always stay strong.

A Sign From Above

I saw a sign

And could have sworn it wasn't real

But then I looked and I saw you

You were my angel

Right from the beginning

You guarded and protected me

Without even knowing

And the day I realized

How much you meant to me

All I could do was love you

Unconditionally

The Waterfalls Of My Heart

The waterfalls of my heart

Flow from time to time

The glistening streams of feelings

The luminescent drops

Of regret

All flow from the waterfall

I hold in my chest

There is one key that holds

The secret to my love

But to be able to have my

Love back

You have to put in the time

And find the key

It's Happening To Me

A gentle breeze

On a warm summer's night

The orange and pink of the sunset

Melt into the clouds along the horizon

We sit on a bench, gazing at the skyline

Fingers intertwined

Heads on shoulders

And whispers passing lips

His deep brown eyes meet mine

And I know it's true

Not just a fantasy

And it's happening to me

Magic

What do you do

When the magic

In life

Is gone

When the illusions

Seem fake

And the enchantment

Is suddenly missing

How do you get it back

How do you find the

Magic again

Sprinkled With Stars

The breeze blew through the house

It rattled anything loose

The rain hit the roof

It splattered on the windows

The bright green of the foliage

Stood out against the deeply setting sun

Soon the moon would be brightly shining

And illuminated against the velvet sky

Sprinkled with stars

What I Can't Say

Normally I am so loud

I speak my mind

And everyone knows I'm heard

But when it comes to you

Something happens

My throat closes

My tongue stops moving

And my lips cease to part

Something happens in my brain

And I can't vocalize my thoughts

My best friend knows

Exactly how I feel

He knows my every wish

And hope and dream

Why can't I just tell you

I know

It is still early and

We are still learning and exploring

But I do know this

I care a lot about you

And I think that this could work

I want to show you

And tell you how I feel

But I guess we just take it slowly

And let fate take its course

If it's meant to work

It will

I just hope this time it is the one

Because even though my lips

Can't tell you

I think I'm falling in love

 

Dear Diary,

Writing is such a release for me these days. I write what I feel. I always have, but now it's not so dark. I may not be in love, or in a relationship, but I have felt love before. I draw from those past experiences to write poems and stories of love.

Fiction comes so easily to me. I can create any world I want to, and it is exhilarating.

I walk with my head held high, knowing I carry hope for my future. I will be in love again someday. I want a lot of things. Some may happen, and some may not. Either way they are dreams, hopes, and things to strive for. It is so nice to have dreams that are happy.

I want to get married. I want a home with a front yard to play in and a back yard to barbecue. I want children. I can't wait to be married and pregnant. I love babies, and I want to take care of and raise my own. I want to be a stay-at-home mom. I may not clean too well or know just how to create a masterpiece on the stove yet, but I can learn. I have a lot of time to learn, grow, change my mind, and be the best person I can be.

I can love someone with my whole heart, and I plan to someday. I can smile about this knowledge because I know I will love better than I otherwise would have, for I have felt the sting of pain and the pinch of mistakes. But I have overcome and learned a lot about both life and myself.

The good feels better when you have something to compare it to.

Waiting For Me

The sun will shine again someday

It won't always be so dark

There will be someone to hold my hand

And together we can start

A journey

A path

Together as one

Working through struggles

Smiling through good times

We can weather the storms

Someday you will find me

Where or when

I don't know

But someday I will love you

With everything I have

I will open my heart

And expose how vulnerable I am

I will speak with honesty

And resist the want to run

Someday you will

Risk everything you have

For the chance to love me fully

And receive my love in return

Someday we will both know

That mistakes can be made

But as long as there's love

Things will still be gained

I don't know where you are

I don't know who you will be

All I know is someday

You'll be waiting for me

Dusk ‘til Dawn

The moon beams glow

Gusts of wind whip by

Relaxation tickles the spirit

Overflowing love

Spills into the clouds

Golden sun rays

Tingle on the skin

Dance with me

Embrace me with

Your warmth

Show Me You Care

I love when you hold me close

Rub my back

Arm around my waist

Share a chair

Kiss my lips

Show me you care

I hope you know how I feel

I hope you know what I hope for

I want to be with you

Want to call you my own

Know others have no chance

If they want you too

I love how we are going

The pace we choose to take

And I just hope you want me too

To be your own

And call me yours

The Friends You'll Never Forget

They're essential

They're always there

They love you

For better

Or for worse

If they mind

They won't matter

If they matter

They won't mind your mistakes

They take care of you

You take care of them

You can

Cry together

Laugh together

Be there for each other

For better

Or for worse

Live life for

The nights you may not remember

With the friends you'll never forget

They'll love you

You'll love them

Forever

For better

Or for worse

You Would Do

I couldn't believe

When you told me

What you said

To her

I knew she

Was wrong

And I knew

You like me

But I didn't know

The extent

You'd go

To prove

Your affection

To me

You say

You've found someone

You can

Fall for

That's what I love

To hear

Because I know

I'm already

Falling

For you

 

Every month, every year that passed since she'd quit left less cravings for Meagan to deal with than the last.

She had been through so much work to heal and forgive herself. It had taken more strength than she'd thought she had at the time. Meagan knew she'd never completely forget, but it was a relief not to think about the faded scars constantly. In fact, it wasn't often at all now. Somehow though, that made the rare urge that much harder to deal with.

She felt like she was failing when she wanted the control from a quick cut. She felt like she was betraying herself to even want it one more time. It was painful to think that way, but it was automatic.

Shame and blame came quickly regarding her scars.

But that was something she was working on changing as well.

She constantly reminded herself that, despite hating to admit it in the beginning, it had been an addiction for her. She never thought cutting could be an addiction, but so quickly it had become one for her. True, the affair with sharp objects hadn't lasted as long for Meagan as it had for some others, and it didn't get as bad either, but it still had lasting effects. It was still a problem she continually worked on to overcome.

****

Meagan was soaking up the words on the page. She couldn't get enough lately. She read books in hours and days instead of weeks like her friends. When she started, she was sucked in and just couldn't stop. Words made her happy. The creative worlds, characters, and plots gave energy to Meagan. Creativity made her happy. She would lose sleep and forget to shower or eat when she was reading a book that had her mind spinning in descriptions and dialogue.

She was reading now. And she was enthralled.

She was riveted, until she was sucked into the wallow of a character. Then something shifted, and the world beneath her caved in. She started to drown, and it had been so long since she'd last worried about breaking her lengthy journey of healthy decisions, that she was caught off guard. For a moment, nothing made sense.

Meagan understood the crushing despair she was reading about far too well. It made her want to fix the pain, and that scared her. She should just feel her way through it instead of finding a quick fix. She'd learned that was like slapping a bandage on a bullet wound. Feelings didn't need fixing. She had learned that so long ago. Every feeling was valid and would pass eventually.

But this heartbreak, it had come out of nowhere; she could feel it in her heart, and she suddenly started to cry. She was crying for the story, but she was crying more for herself. Somehow her own feelings had gotten mixed up with the heroine's, and nothing made sense for a scary moment.

Every tear was filled with confusion and intense emotion.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Writing and reading were supposed to be outlets; they were supposed to help Meagan. She had never been triggered from a story. And to add to it, she hadn't been triggered in a while. It was so much to take.

She was terrified.

It took a moment to remember how she needed to break through the surge of it all. Before she realized what to do, her eyes went wide and darted around the room. There would be something sharp in here. She would find it and make this all go away. But when she saw the fan, it reminded her of air, of breathing.

Then she recalled she needed to breathe through it.

Breathe though her nose, in and out once.

Breathe through two moments of sheer agony.

Breathe through three solid and slow breaths.

And the world started to make more sense. Once everything slowed, when her head stopped spinning, she could see clearer, and her heartbeat slowed. It wasn't instant, and Meagan was still too concerned in her reaction to continue reading immediately. But she hadn't given in. And for that she was proud of herself.

Another battle was won, adding to her strength.

It was also important for her to remember these moments could happen regardless of how careful she was. This was not an excuse to stop reading, stop writing, stop doing things she loved, just because they might remind her of the tough past. No she would not cause further strain or suffering to herself because the past would always be there. It was impossible to run away from herself.

So she set down her book and picked up her computer to journal through the experience. Each scary moment had a lesson. She'd find the one she'd just learned through her written words.

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