Did it hurt?
It did. It was the kind of pain that you can't share because nobody would understand. The kind of pain you keep to yourself because god forbid you open up about it and you have to explain further because they don't get it... I didn't even get it. It was too painful to try and convince others of or justify. I'm not even sure if the pain was justified. I just know that it hurt.
Did you cry?
I did. I cried for so many days, so many nights. I cried alone where nobody could see or hear me because as much as I acted like I didn't care, it hurt me more than I would've liked to admit. I cried in a cold, dark room. In the comfort of my own bed. Hands over my mouth and eyes, hoping nobody hears the squeals and wheezes coming from my bedroom. I cried my eyes out, tears pouring out of me uncontrollably, soaking my pillow and bed sheets. Snot running out of my nose. Face red and puffy, stuffed nose, body hot, shaking, breathless, at a loss for any words. Oh I cried, and I cried alone. The only way I could. The only way I knew.
How did you get over it?
Eventually, the pain becomes numbness, then it doesn't hurt as much. The truth of it though is that I never did get over it. Every day I'm still going through it. Subconsciously I'm in that place sometimes. Other times I actively realize what's happening. Sometimes it feels out of control and I wonder if I'll ever truly overcome it all or if I'll continue on my whole life never able to fully rid myself of the trauma.
