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This Is Me, Finally Picking Up The Pieces And Moving On

This Is Me, Finally Picking Up The Pieces And Moving On

I had always hoped that this day would come and that I could be free. The beautiful feeling of fulfillment came over me the moment I realized that I had finally gathered up the strength to pick up all my broken pieces that were left in front of your door and to move on. I am moving on, finally.

This is me. The small and fragile version of myself. The one you said was too weak for this harsh world. I want you to look again and see me rise above everything I have been through. I’m packing my stuff. I’m leaving.

Does it sound intimidating now that you know that the little, shy and weak girl you’ve been using to please your every need is finally able to move on and do something that will make her happy?

Does the thought of me being happy make you wonder about your judgment? When you said that I could never be happy without you I actually believed you but look at me now. My life has never been this beautiful before.

Don’t mistake this strength and this amount of self-respect to last too long, because I will break. I will be honest with you, I will break at one point.

But I won’t come back. I won’t ever come back. When one day every atom of my body is screaming for your touch and my ears are aching to hear your voice, I will suffer alone in my room, far away from you. You won’t even know that it’s happening.

This is me, finally finding myself. I lost everything when I was with you. I lost the glow of my skin and the light in my eyes. I lost all those beautiful moments of joy and my loud laugh that I loved so much was also gone.

Some moments I’d be standing in front of the mirror, not recognizing that dead body standing in front of me. Today, I am looking that strong woman right in the eye and the mirror doesn’t frighten me anymore. It encourages me to hold my hands up straight and to catch all the pieces of me I once called my own.

This is me, finally walking away. Take a good look at me, for the last time. You will never again see this face this close. Maybe you’ll see it in a stranger or in that stranger across the street who kind of looks a bit familiar as well.

That person will be me and you will regret the moment you let this happen. You’ll remember all those times you let me fall for you without you catching me. You’ll remember the way you’d look at me with your cold eyes while I was trying to explain to you that the books you burned were the books I was given for my birthday; my grandmother still thinks I have them.

This is me, finally seeing the truth. You never loved me. You used me to make your life a little bit less miserable. It was much easier to make me suffer than to see the way your life was falling apart.

No job, no life, no soul. You are left with nothing but regrets and remorse for yourself. Good thing that I have seen the truth and that I have not let myself fall deeper into your lies and manipulation.

This is me, being free. There will be times when I will remember you and you will hurt me, somewhere in the back of my heart where I put all the people who once meant something to me (a long time ago).

But I will be free . I will be free of your torturing hands and your stinging words. At this moment, I am freeing myself from your grip and I am recovering.

This is me, finally picking up the pieces and moving on. I have finally gathered the strength.