And I was destroyed (more?)


My weekly writing pact has transformed a little bit: my friend and I are sending each other three lines from our previous writing that could be expanded into a completely separate piece.  When my friend sent me a line I was going to write about this week, I wasn’t sure how to even approach it.  Then, I wasn’t sure I wanted to approach it… or even try to touch it with a ten foot pole.  

I’m still not sure.  So… I will write out the line, find the context I meant it in when I originally wrote it, set a timer, and go:

“Why did they have to take that from me?  And how do I take it back?”

This line wasn’t about any of the obvious things that were taken from me.  It was about something that wasn’t obvious that was taken… it was about something intense… something that makes a normal act of endearment force me to cringe and step away shaking.

That doesn’t always happen now.  But it did at first.

There’s a line… between taking one thing from someone and taking everything.  There’s a line between… doing the “traditional” things that are done in an act and completely destroying somebody.

“You clouded my judgement.  I DESTROYED that girl.”

Only no one’s judgement was clouded, except maybe mine.

Destroy.  To destroy something is put an end to the existence of (something) by damaging or attacking it.  Or to ruin (someone) emotionally or spiritually.

So when they took something else from me… something greater than what had already been taken… was I any more destroyed than I would have been anyways?

I guess I will never know.  There is no way to know.

But if I had to guess… I’d go with what I had been saying all along: if a few specific things had been different then, things would be vastly different now.