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I’ve tried to write in the past about my opinions on getting over something. About wearing our scars and pushing the boulder back up the hill. But I am not sure I’ve done a good enough job at specifically defining what I think it means to get over something. My recent fiction has been unsatisfyingly indirect. So I am writing something direct for a change (that’s a bit of a joke, if you’ve been following along to this point dear reader you’d know most of my writing is fairly unambiguous)
On my thigh I’ve got this insane tattoo of a girl I used to date. I’ve told a lot of people about the tattoo. There’s a certain type of person (because there are only 12 types of people of course) who will ask me “But what are you going to say to the next girl you date, will you get it removed?” To which I can only respond “Maybe but, I don’t think so. I don’t want to be with someone who loves me despite my scars. I want to be with someone who loves me for them.”
To me, this really speaks to the heart of getting over something. In my experience healing is not really about finding our way back to the person we were before. It’s about finding out who we are now. Healing a wound creates scar tissue where we once had fair skin.
And so, no, if you had bothered to ask I’d tell you I’m not fully over it. But only in the same way as I’m not fully over anything that’s happened to me. Gently I’ve let it become a part of me. I’ve found a way to move past it. I’ve climbed out of the hole and become a whole (heh). It’s part of who I am now, and I am proud of that
As always thanks for reading my dear reader. I love you, whoever you are