The Journey

Miles and Miles

I’m in such a strange place right now. I’ve come so very far…but know I’ve got miles and miles yet to go. Sometimes it feels like people only see the progress; I look at the road before me and shake.

Most people who know me would say I’m strong. I guess they’re right.

It doesn’t feel that way.

The details don’t matter here; suffice it to say that my earliest memories are of abuse. Both parents, other people…the details don’t matter here.

I was trapped in that hell until I was over thirty. Then I got on a Greyhound bus and vanished.

People hear that and invariably gasp. “Oh, you’re so strong! I’d never have the guts to do that!”

Strong? I guess so. “Desperate” is the word I’d use. I had to get out. A thread-thin chance presented itself, and I leaped.

And now I am in such a strange place.

It’s been a year now. I have a home, friends. For the first time in my life I’m safe.

It feels weird.

For all the progress I’ve made, some days I feel stuck on square 1. I know how far I’ve come, but I still find myself rolled in a ball on the floor, bawling.

I’ve come so very far…but feel alone in the knowledge that I’ve got so far to go.

Miles and miles and miles.

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