I was sitting in my Sunday best across the room from the kind of man I hoped would still exist in a few years. As opposed to the loose canons I always seemed to find myself in close proximity to. The kind that ignore your phone calls and inhale illegal substances and then tell you they didn't.
Yes, this man in front of me was the kind of man who most definitely answered every one of his wife's phone calls, and who probably never inhaled things for fun. That's what I was thinking. He told me that my past was set in stone, but that I couldn't let that tether me down, away from the better things.
I remember imagining myself as a statue. Set in stone. My past-self, with the blank, passive expression and the terrified eyes.
The only thing you can
do is move forward with all of the strength you have and make as many
memories as you can to make the bad ones, the repulsive ones, seem
smaller somehow. After awhile, they feel like less apart of you.
if you're one of the unfortunate, one of the manipulated and
deceived who let a poisonous boy who never deserved to
touch you, touch you, at least you have that to look forward to. And by
"that" I mean the entire rest of your life.