Repressed Memories~Forgiveness

I thought long and hard about publishing this piece in this space especially with everything going on in my life. Honest is all I can be at this point especially if I ever want to be completely at peace with myself.

Her raised voice still makes my skin crawl. 
I used to love her. She was my hero.  I ached for her when she was away. Sometimes just for the 8 hours she was at work but always when I was far away. 
Was it before the other girls that I was her baby? Dotted on spoiled,  cuddled and cottled? 
What happened to the woman that made sure I went to kindergarten reading  who read  and played with me? 
Thinking and trying to pull memories that I’ve blocked for so long is exhausting. The mystery of how she went from my Beloved to number 2 on the shit list has haunted me. She has apologized.  My acceptance has always been false. I smile and hug because I still love her I just need to know when she stopped loving me.

I’ve wanted to forgive her and love her unconditionally again. I think about her sacrifice, her own shitty life, her dedication, her victories. I feel selfish becasue I don’t care. My pain is still very real.

There is a gap in my memory for a reason. It has something to do with her love for me changing. It could possibly be the worst memory of all.
I try to push it away. It’s easier. If I don’t my mind wonders. She got married. She loved me the hardest still. She held on. He touched me. The hold faltered. He touched me and her rage began. Had she ever screamed at me or beat me? 

My mother. Where in the hell was my mother. When did I start missing her?

My mind wonders. I’m angry again. Just hours before I was cowering in a corner being beaten with a belt and now we were sitting at a Meeting. They were both pretending.
He touched me and her anger only mounted. The screaming was the worst but I wondered how she could beat me so willingly but complain about the cruelty of her own father. Her hugs and kisses were replaced with his molestation.
The accusation is screaming to be said aloud. The question needs to be asked. There is a gap for a reason. I didn’t just forget. I’m blocking it. He touched me. It happened.  There is something else I’m blocking. Some pain that I need to deposit elsewhere.
She is the key and every time I try to ask it or say it. I sob. The deepest most wrecking sobs. I can’t breathe because it hurts so damn bad.
It hurts but she’s sick. I can’t let her last worries be of me and my hatred. I want no I need her to be at peace when she leaves us because that is how I would want my own daughter to say goodbye to me.

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