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The other half is almost here.

I track it like a mad woman.  Every time I have the senseless urge to reach out to cry on someone’s shoulder, or to just talk begging to be heard, or maybe to just listen begging for human sound, instead I just track the package.

Today, it’s reached a 45 mile radius. I cried in gratitude.  I wanted to jump in my car and drive to it…now. Right now.  Those wild horses are nearly within my grasp…

I can’t though.  I must wait just a little bit longer.

And there’s no one to talk to anyway.  I can still listen, but the horrible truth is I no longer can listen with the sincere interest I once had.  The agony is too loud.  I listen with hopes that my words, too,  might matter if I do.  They won’t though.  I know that.

My pain, my fury, the cuts of so many betrayals – a literal lifetime of betrayals- of all those who should have stood up for me. Those who should have helped, but stood by and did nothing… all the while saying, “I love you”.  God, how I fucking hate those words now.  I love you.  The very words I once ached for.  They hurt my ears and stab cruelly into my soul now.  I’ll never believe in those words again – not from anyone.

Ever since I was a very little girl, I’d pray for someone to help me, rescue me, or just stand up for me.

No one ever did. Ever.  Not even once.

This is why I advocated so adamantly for the defenseless ones when I got big enough to convince myself I could be the one…the one to show up and not be silent.  To speak up even if my voice shook and my knees were weak.  Not just sit by shrugging my shoulders saying, Oh that’s too bad.  Oh, well that’s not really my business. Oh life’s just not fair. Sorry that’s happening to you.. blah blah blah…  empty words with even emptier sentiments. It’s just bullshit people say when they know they should give a fuck, but they don’t.

I’ve never in my life asked or expected anyone to fight my battles.  But just to fucking stand up next to me, or for me, and say, THIS IS WRONG and SHE’S NOT ALONE DAMNIT. It’s so much easier for attackers when they know someone’s alone and no one is brave enough or cares enough to stand with them.

Easy target. I’ve always been the easiest target of them all.  At least dogs will bite.  I was trained not to bite or fight or resist at all – no matter what was being done to me.

I was trained to accept abuse.

I’m dead weight. The long trail of pain, betrayal, and abuse, are too heavy for anyone to even think to lift a finger to help now.

Not that they did before either.

I don’t even want help now.  I accept my fate.  I won’t burden anyone by reaching out to make me screams heard ever again.

Ever.

It’s almost here!  It’s almost over!

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