One Day.

One day, you will just be a story I tell to the one I love, about the battle scars on my body, the ones buried deep in my heart. You will be the story that he pats me on the head for, for all the things I endured just to love. You will be the story that he hugs all my broken pieces for. You will be the story that he knows where my every fear, my every flashback, my every stiffened movement, my every shortness of breath, my every chest pain comes from. You will be the story that explains to him why I no longer cry. You will be the story that inspires him to love me even more, to paint my broken cracks with gold, to teach me to wear these battle scars as badges. You will be the story that does not threaten him, but pushes him more to be the reason why we didn’t work out; to be the reason I never cry again. You will be the story that he tells our kids, of why he loves mom so much. You will be the story that he shields me from the world with. And one day, I will be the story that you tell your son, of what daddy did to the one who loved him will all of her being, the one he threw away, the one he destroyed but only lifted him with forgiveness; to never do that to someone else’s daughter. And I will be, the story you tell to your daughter, of why she should never cry for that boy, of why daddy is going to protect her, and of why daddy is so sorry for having been just like the one who is hurting her. One day, we will just be stories. Stories of Lessons Learned.

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