I don’t know how it happened exactly, it just did….maybe we couldn’t really see each other’s heart or pain, maybe it was just too hard, maybe we needed time, maybe we were angry, maybe too much built up without the words, maybe we loved each other too much, maybe we were just tired.
Some where along the way, my family of origin sort of fell apart. The bones were there, some little pockets of connection held tight quietly, others grew…my parents still loved us deeply. It was painful and sad…because under it all, my family loved each other fiercely.
I pulled away, I said hurtful things, I showed up when I shouldn’t have and didn’t come when it mattered…I couldn’t find my voice or way. So I left, we all sort of did in our own way…and at moments that felt okay and required but after awhile you forget that…
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