Your intricate web of lace carefully covers the moss, as I make my way home. It has been years since I left, and the argument on my lips is all but forgotten. In truth, it is fear, which kept me from you. I had said the wrong thing before, and didn’t want to say the wrong thing again.
I have rehearsed my lines, as the familiar marsh, pulls me deeper into my childhood. Eighteen again, it felt like you didn’t understand my love. To run away was my only option, but then he didn’t run away with me.
Truth is, I could have gone home years ago, but I was ashamed. You were right, he was no good for me, but I was in a strange world, void of any feelings. The only way I could survive was by moving forward.
Living a life I could be proud of, so you could be proud of me.
When you pull me into a hug, I realise, I should have come home years ago.
Such a well-crafted story in so few words, Diana. Well-penned!
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Thank you
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Thanks Diana for this lovely story!
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The pain and dilemma is so evident, though the story is an outline of what really happened.
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Beautifully told.
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Love this one! 🧡
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Beautifully done, such a special piece well done.
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Beautiful story.
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This is so beautiful. Excellent work.
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