(Source: pokec0re)
Tripping Over Life
Tara. Twenty going on six. Filipino-American-ish. I <3 Cebu, Philippines forever. GOD is my best buddy. Often mistaken for a twelve year old. Lover of chocolate, muffins, and chocolate muffins. Potterhead to infinity and beyond. "A classic GryffinPuff". Laughs too loud and talks too much, and loves to make new friends. I like to move it, move it.
Let’s be honest.
When you’ve been hurt pretty badly, of course things change. You get hesitant to do anything new. Someone says they’ll never hurt you and you trust them, and yet. Not that I don’t trust Marv. When things were starting out between us I was hesitant to do anything, really. I was scared of showing too much, of being too much, of feeling too much, because I was left with the feeling that I wasn’t good enough for anyone. When you’ve been replaced (and cheated on on the night of your board exam), that’s how it feels. When you’ve constantly made a fool of yourself by showering gifts and bordering on crazy-stalker-girl and visibly trying to make things work for someone who throws you away, that’s how it feels. When you’ve given more than you’ve ever given before, only to be led on and given up on, that’s how it feels.
Of course there are two sides of the story. Of course the truth will always be twisted, or skipped, or glossed over on either side.
Of course there’s a scar. How could there not be one? But all things happen for a reason. And scars eventually fade and turn into “battle scars”, into badges of honor, reminding you of what you once went through and how much stronger you are now. I was a wreck, and broken and scarred and scared, then God blessed me with someone who took all of that in, who understood that my past still haunted me by leaving me with self-doubt, and who just loved me. Just me. In all my Tara-ness. And I’m so grateful for that. Eternally grateful.
Of course it stings from time to time, but no longer that ache that made me just want to cry it out and stay in bed (because yes, I’ve been there). Rather it stings in the way that makes me wonder how I ever let myself get that broken, how I ever got into that situation in the first place, why I gave anyone the authority to do that to me. In the end, though, I come up proud that I’ve made it through when it looked pitch black.
I come up proud that I’ve grown stronger.
