The Funny Thing About Trauma

Today, I searched “trauma” on my laptop and found a message you sent
I guess my laptop knew before I did
I thought I deleted that message
I guess my laptop decided
I needed reminding
I read the message where you told me we weren’t finished yet.
We had years left.
But you couldn’t talk to me right now because you weren’t done being offended yet.
You’d contact me when you were
And pick up where you left off.
You actually said we’d pick up where we left off
But that’s not really what you meant.
You meant you’d pick me up where you dropped me and expect me to stay till you were ready to come back
You meant I should still be broken when you return
So you can rebuild me the way you wanted me to begin
You wanted to be my devastation so you were the only one who could save me.
You forgot the part where once you cause the trauma you can only ever cause re-triggering
You can’t save a person you re-traumatize every time you walk into the room.
Minor oversight.
Today, I searched “trauma is a funny thing” on my laptop and found you.
I guess my laptop knew before I did.
I think you broke me so you were the only one who could fix me.
You missed the part where I picked myself up a thousand times before you.
You may have done your worst, but you didn’t do the worst.
You came close, but I’m a mosaic 
– life gave me three thousand broken pieces and I turned it into a beautiful thing.
You can’t break something made of broken
I am my own art piece
I may still love you, but I’m not waiting
I hope it’s not a hard journey to the place you left me
Because when you get there I’ll be gone
And getting in isn’t the hard part
It’s getting out that’s a bitch
I did it already
P.S. I carved “I hate you” into the bottom of the pit you left me in.
If you make it to the top, I wrote, “I forgive you. But you’re still a bitch.” 
Guess I wasn’t done with angry yet.

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