I want you to hit me. I want you to hit me so hard, it leaves a mark, knocks the wind out of me, throws me flat on my back. Because I can deal with that. I know what that’s like, I know how long the sting lasts. I know how long it takes before I can get up and walk away, before you can move just like you used to, before it turns into another story you tell over a drink with someone who is just as battered and hardened as you are.
I don’t know how to deal with this. It’s the kind of pain that nothing seems to ice over. The kind of pain that leaves you walking with your back straight and your spirit bent, if not crushed.
Am I ever going to be able to trust anyone again?