We are back here. Underneath my thick pastel coloured blanket. The one I envision being wrapped in when I pray.
Pastel. A good colour for this little one.
I make a tent out of it. The closest thing I have to the cave that I wish we could hide in.
I’m realising that with all that can change inside of me, some things do remain the same.
The wounds are still there, and the ones who caused them before can still make them bleed all over again.
This time though, I’m big.
I have come from the future to protect the little girl. Allowing her to cry without worrying about wetting the cheerful faces printed on her pyjamas. It always seemed unfair to make them teary too.
I’m big enough to watch her curl in a ball and receive her body’s silent speech about pain.
I used to rush her to get over the big people’s things. Telling her not to feel sorry for herself.
I didn’t mean to bully her like that. I just wanted her to be strong because I heard the big people say that’s how you survive the world.
Survival. It was something I wanted for this little one.
But this time I am letting her sit in this cave and be sad.
That’s brave too. And the future taught me why this part is important.
It’s not any less sore. That part hasn’t changed. This is something that even I, the big one from the future, can’t save her from. Something that even I, the big one from the future, still can’t quite understand.
But I can listen to her needs this time.
I can look at where her heart goes and gently hold her hand to come back only when she is ready.
I became big, so she is free to be small and fragile without any shame
In the future I have lived the things that came from the tears she held back. I know where it all goes wrong, and how it won’t help her.
Now, in this triggering place, I’m here to show her what she is allowed to do. I can promise her that she will be ok, knowing that’s no lie.
I will sit here and keep her safe until she trusts this for herself too. You see, I’m one of the big people now, so it’s not easy for her to take my word. I don’t blame her.
Tomorrow I will go back to the future and continue our journey.
Maybe tomorrow is too soon?
Maybe the next day, or the day after that?
I will let her decide.
No more rushes around her recovery time. We can sit here all week if she wants.
We are back here.
This place is still as cold as we left it when our body was smaller.
It’s not any less sore.
But I can time travel now.
I can come from the future every single time
find her in whatever cave she creates
free her tears
knowing that there is a tomorrow where we do not die.
I come from the place where we turn out fine.
Published: 2020-06-28 - 11:25:26
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