Ink Stained Soul…

Reaching back into my childhood plagues me with questions of why I was never enough. Why was I the discarded one? Why was I so hard to love? Why did everyone always abandon me? I thought that for most of my life, I was meant to only show love, never receive it. That I had to earn the attention of those I loved, and yet it was never fully attainable. This plagued my existence far longer than I would like to admit, but it no longer does. It was him. He told me I never needed them and I should never let myself be treated that way, even by him. He warned me he would destroy me, and he did in ways. I watched a part of myself die living in a constant state of grief of the loss. But he also taught me to save myself, and in that, I learned to love myself, helping me heal that part of myself that needed it most.