It’s time to let you go.
It’s time I let you all go.
All the heartbreaks, all the unspoken tears, all the bottled anger and the hurt, the deep, indescribable hurt.
It’s time to set you free.
I can’t move forward with you hanging onto my every move, weighing my heart down.
I can’t do it anymore.
I can’t be this person who gives more than she receives,
Who yearns for more than she allows herself,
And who wakes alone in the middle of the night to find an empty house and an empty heart.
I can’t keep living on fumes, meandering about in a wasteland of my own making.
I am so tired, so deeply exhausted by the hurt I’ve been holding onto.
I don’t need you to acknowledge the past or say you’re sorry.
I don’t need you to look me in the eye and see me, really see me.
Nor do I long for you to wake up and transform and become the mother, father, brother, friend or lover that I have been waiting for all these years.
I don’t need it and I don’t want it.
The only thing I have deeply wanted all this time is myself, and the truth of my own being.
I’m not sure if I’ve found it yet or even if it’s possible.
I do know that I have a better shot at real peace and contentment if I shoot for my own road instead of trying to travel on yours.
Because that’s always been the problem, I have inserted myself into everyone else’s story, afraid that I didn’t have one of my own, or I couldn’t create one from the raw material of myself.
So, I’m stopping.
I’m stopping all the fantasies of possibilities that involve someone rescuing me, someone saving me, or someone making me feel better.
I don’t want to be saved; I am the heroine of my own story.
And it’s time I started acting like it.
So call me on my bullshit.
Tell me the truth with a smile.
Let me cry.
Let me curse the sky and reach for the stars.
‘Cause I’m worth it.
I just didn’t know it until now.