And suddenly I lack any desire to write. I no longer crave to write about who I was, who I loved, who I am, who I’m becoming, or who I’m now experiencing life with, let alone falling for. For what is the point when people continuously mark you as who you were with no forgiveness for the growth that has shaped who you’re becoming? What is the point of documenting your growth if all that matters is who you hurt while you were hurting? What’s the point of writing about a love that people won’t let you have a taste of because they must make it a point to define you by who you used to be? What’s the point of fighting when it feels like nobody is fighting for you?
I want the forgiveness of the sins I committed when I was hurting. I desire a clean slate as I am no longer that broken individual who destroyed those in the path of her storm. I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, but I crave a salvation that I long to find in her heart, I crave a forgiveness that radiates from her eyes, a wave of love to come from the words she showers me with that tells me anything from then, doesn’t matter now. But I don’t know if this redemption will ever come.