did you get the best of me?
I don’t mean that in a ‘no one else will ever get me like you did, you took the very best parts of me when you left’ kind of way.
in the way that sometimes I let my trauma speak louder than my joy.
in the way that sometimes I let my insecurities talk over me.
in the way that sometimes the unhealed parts of me were the ones to welcome you home.
one of the hardest parts, I’ve learned, about life is that eventually we all will have to make peace with the fact that people are going to hold onto different versions of us.
the different versions that we were back then,
the different versions they created in order to make themselves feel better for how they treated us,
the different versions of the expectations we, and they, held of us.
because the truth is,
we weren’t always good,
or healed,
or working toward healing.
some versions of us saved those who needed saving.
some versions were karma,
and still,
some versions brought people to their knees as they
tried and tried to understand us.
regardless,
that’s the beauty of life,
I suppose.
we get to grow,
to evolve,
to change.
that’s the beauty of life,
we can learn to leave people better than we found them.
