You were in my dreams again and it was like it used to be. You and me, joined at the hip again. I loved you so much, I know that now, I loved enough to sacrifice.
And sacrifice I did for you, I did everything I could. I held your hand, I cleaned you up, I brushed your hair and gently hushed your distress and I got us out of there. I was determined and viscous in my conviction to ensure you would never suffer my fate again. I found my voice and I stood up to them and you were safe once more.
Dare I believe that it wasn’t my fault? When I have carried this for years? Perhaps I fear an empty space where my self hatred has made it’s nest, weighted but settled in my soul. Will I be empty without my guilt, or will it be replaced with pain? A pain I hate, a pain I don’t want, but a pain that represents the truth?