Just for show.
To quote T Swift, bandaids don’t fix bullet holes. And my back is riddled with them. Sigh.
When someone says blood is thicker than water, ask them to share some life stories and see if that’s actually true. More times than not, you’ll find holes that suggest otherwise.
I can confirm that blood is not always thicker. And that, my friends, is a hurt like none other. Sometimes, the water in your life keeps you afloat better than that blood people like to point to. It’s those you choose to let into your inner circle that tend to treat you better than the ones connected by biology.
Lately, I find myself questioning a lot of things. Things I thought I held true. Things I thought I knew with absolute certainty. Things I wouldn’t have thought twice about questioning. And, the more questions I have, the less what I thought I knew holds true. And, I’m markedly angry about it.
I never thought I’d reach a point in life where I have to sit back and quite literally question everything being said. And the things not being said as well. By blood. You see, with water, I hold a lot of myself back anyway. A lifetime of trust issues built upon people taking things I share and using them against me has taught me to play life close to the vest.
Now, after feeling like I’ve been shot through the heart and stabbed in the back, by blood, I find myself worried that everything I’ve shared will come back to smack me down. Double sigh.
Eventually, the hurt will dull to a small ache. The kind that only pinches a little when someone brings up the one who caused me to bleed. And I’ll patch up the holes in my heart as best I can. But, know this, while I won’t fire back (that whole growth thing I’ve been working on), I will make my self understood when the fit hits the shan.
For now, I’ll takes notes, fold it into a story, and wait to see who recognizes the truth wound through the tale.
jamonicad 