Writer's View

The hardest part was knowing the truth all along yet finding it most difficult to accept it.

I discovered the reason 8 years ago. Everything, and it broke every piece of me.

“How will I reassemble myself?” The parts of me that I used to love, now became unbearable to stare at, let alone be even given a glance.

“Am I still Normal?” Only the dictionary ever gave a definite meaning to what normalcy is; every other meaning is just subjective interpretation. But I meant to ask this question on the grounds of each and every one of those existing definitions. Does being normal still apply to a person who’s broken?

Into little pieces, I was always left to wonder and ponder.

“I can fix you. I’ll be here for you.” They all said repeatedly; a mantra that has become a habit.

Finally finding the voice to speak up, I responded to each one of them: “You’re correct and mistaken at the same time.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here for you.”

“Yeah, you can be here for me. but you cannot fix me.”

It’s not that I didn’t want to be repaired, back to being whole again. In fact, I desperately wanted to. However, over the course of this self-break process, I have come to realize that it is only I who can mend and heal myself back into the original version of these shattered pieces.