Do you know what I did? I threw the letter into the fire and watched the fire consume the very last of the pallid pieces till all that remained was hovering bits of ashes.
I cried when that night they said ‘don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.’ I cried like a little baby. Can you see past blackness when nothing is lit up in the farthest of horizons? Yes, Esmeralda, I gave in; I gave in to tears because I was in the over and it was hard to see anything else except what I was in back then. And I was the in the over. I couldn’t understand how any blessing, boon or any speck of sunshine could come out from a terribly empty, cold end. I cried to bed saying I needed nothing. But it wasn’t true, I needed a lot. I needed a strong pull of muscles into clarity and warmth, I needed warmth. I needed his warmth. But I loathed him and his hysterics and everything that followed if I would ever savor his strength again, his embrace. I had to let go of everything.
It wasn’t easy living once I let go completely.
I choked for hope and I lived with hurt. Hope would stab me leisurely, ripping me to shards never to be built again. When hope was murdering me, hurt saved me. It couldn’t save all of me but it got me through blizzards. I didn’t realize that I hid a lot of hurt and the hurt I hid ignited enough of my inside to keep breathing. It was rage, it was pain that helped me, it shut me but it saved me.
It doesn’t matter what kept me alive, Esmeralda.
The important thing is that I survived.