I wanted this post to be a lot of things. Topics of friends, relationships, companionships, and the like. Past and Present. It slowly all boiled down to this. Leaves, Branches, and Roots.
Several people in my life, you know...the temporary kind, have been those leaves. They are there in abundance, but only stay for a season or two. With one strong gust of wind, they're gone. Never to be heard from again. That used to bother me, but I had to come to realize that every person that steps into my life isn't meant to remain there for a lifetime. Like leaves, they are just seasonal. Some placed in my life to help show me something important along my journey or just simply passing by.
The branches have to be the worst. Such a false sense of security, they lead you to believe that they are there for the long haul, but that's never the case. Just as fast as you lean on that branch for support, it'll break. I'v had people in my life that I thought would be there for me without a second thought in my mind..'cause I was there for them, ya know. Well when it was my turn for support they were no where to be found. Lesson learned.
Roots. A tree only needs a few roots to give it what it needs to survive. I have those roots. God. My family and loved ones. My very close circle of friends. Without a doubt in my mind, I know they're there for me and will always be.
Find out who your roots are and cherish them....everybody else just doesn't matter.
-B
Before I even decided that I would tell the story, I assumed I would be judged. I had never told anyone the truth about it. No one. Only bits and pieces that I felt I wouldn't put me in such a bad light. But this time, I felt as if I should finally let someone know what really happened during that 6 months. I paced around my bedroom as my roommate sat and waited for me to start. As usual, trying to make light of the story I was about to tell. I said, “Girl, don’t judge me”.
I started rambling, trying to remember all of the details chronologically. It was hard, being as I had put so much effort in blocking it all out. I continued to pace and looked my ceiling trying to get it out. She listened intently. I would glance over to see her reaction every time I would get to a part that would make me cringe. I was searching for that judgment in her facial expressions. About 30 minutes had passed and I was still rambling. Opening up like this was just not in my character, but I still felt as though it was necessary to finally tell that truth…as if it would relieve my conscious of all the half-truths I had told before.
Then I got towards the end of my story. Revealing how lonely I felt in the midst of my shit, how I never told anyone what I went through. I stopped pacing and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Tears welled up in my eyes and felt them slide down my face. I was angry with myself for allowing that situation to still affect me in that way…I was embarrassed that I was crying in front of her. I felt weak. I wiped the tears away as quickly as they fell. I ended the story and looked at her to see her reaction…waiting for the judgmental comments.
“[Brooklyn], I actually think that showed how strong you were.”
Out of all of the things that could have been said, that was the last thing I expected. I was slightly confused by it and wanted to know what would make a person think that after everything I had shared.
“Well, for a person to deal with something like that for so long by themselves and be able to talk about it now makes them a pretty strong person.”
I had to let it sink in. Thinking to myself, I did go through it alone.....but I got through it.
