She asked me how I do it. Sit across the table from men who have hurt me without wanting to scream and cry. She asked me how I could even stand to look at them let alone remain sociable. I told her it wasn't easy. I just keep in mind that they, too, are coming from a world of hurt that I may not understand, but everyone understands pain, understands emotional devastation no matter its source.
I know how to express myself. Quite honestly I just haven't found the right time and what happens sitting across from "these men" is I'm often left wondering if the words I've always intended for them are actually meant for them. I may just be a female version of Voltaire's famous character Candide. At any rate, gender aside, the moral of the tale still stands, "Cultivate your garden."
You have a name, now find your damn telos.
No comments:
Post a Comment