"Are you healed, my love?" She asked.
That question made me astonied. That question was being asked every time I am accompanied. But also, every time, I don't have the answers.
Does a sudden recall of memory means you haven't healed yet? Does healing mean to feel excited once again to see the sunset?
"I'm happy." The answer I gave her.
She just smiled and look away.
"Honey, healing is when you touch the wounds once again and it hurts no more.
It's when you remember your past chapter, and you don't feel anything. No pain, no anger and mostly, no longing.
That's when you're healed."
Then I guess, I'm healed. I chuckled and look her in the eyes.
"I'm grateful you did not leave. Many people had burned my forest and leave me stupefied. Months had passed, butterflies are once again growing in the saddest part of mine."
Silence covered the room.
Oh, I realized. I was talking to myself. After being abused in many chapters of my life, I get to fix my bookshelf.
