A Year in the Review: What I Did With My Box full of Darkness.

I don't even know where to begin this, but it's been a year, and I feel like I need to put it into words.

The nightmare has lasted for two years. Every morning, I wake up and pretend it's not real. Push down the gut feelings and the sixth sense. The Lord wouldn't let that happen. I'm a good girl and good girls always get their reward.

Where are you? Are you working late again?
I told Lauren I had to run to the store, so we can met up.
Who was that text meant for? Who's Julia?

I don't love you. I never did. You had to have known that all this time I was only pretending. I need you out of the house. We need to start our new life.

Daddy, can you come get me and the boys? Can you hurry?
I'll be right there, baby girl. I love you.

Should I pack this?
It won't fit. Leave it behind. Leave everything.

Stay. Please, stay. Don't take them from me.
They were never yours, but mine. I have loved them. I have bathed them, fed them, held them. You were too busy falling in love with someone else. I was never yours either. I got lost as I twisted myself inside out for you. I will never be what you wanted. You see, I never loved you either, even though I tried to pretend. To force it.

The darkness has become as thick as tar, covering everything, stealing the breath I need to survive. My lungs are burning, tightening, wanting to give up. But the night faded into day, and the girl I used to be whispered that it was time to wake up.

I'm sorry I can't buy that color blouse. I'm not allowed. He wouldn't like it.
Wait. I didn't mean that. I'm buying every fucking navy colored piece of clothing in the store.

Do you remember when we used to swim here when we were little?
I remember how you used to sing when you were happy.
I am happy. Almost. I'm close.

Mama, why doesn't daddy call us? Does he not love us anymore. Where is he?

Ms. Marchand, please don't make us do summer reading. I don't want to write this essay.
Coach Lauren, is this how you do a toe touch?

We should go out tonight. We should have fun.

You're the greatest mom in the world. I love you.

I sing all the time now. I can't shut up.

Sometimes I take out the box of darkness and peak inside. It's all but empty now. I should throw it away. I should bury it deep in the woods. But I keep it because I want to remember--where I came from, where I've been, the sad girl I turned in to. I want to remember the darkness, because for the first time, I'm exactly where I want to be, surrounded by people who love me, living the life I never thought I wanted, but the life I needed.

And I love myself now, too. I went through hell, but I found her. I found Lauren.

I never thought I could be grateful for my box full of darkness, but I am. Light has penetrated my life again. The sun is soaking into my skin. I know who I am now and that I am made up of pretty strong stuff. I am a badass. I am better than I was before, more myself.

I am happy. So ridiculously happy. And I can't stop singing.