Continued......

“Camille?”

We each lay on our side of the queen bed and stared into the dark nothingness. The windows providing shadow-like silhouettes between the four walls. I whimpered my sister’s name. I had been fighting with myself for 4 months now. Guilt and shame dissolving my conscious. I needed to tell her, to let her know I wasn’t the person she thought I was anymore.

“Yes Mary?” That was all the lead-in I needed. I hurried out my story trying to let each word slip by before it burned my tongue, before it registered in my heart. I buried my face in the pillow and let my muffled story escape my heart to my sister’s ears.

                The piercing words never penetrated her heart.

                “You’ve been worried about that all this time? Mary it’s okay, you make mistakes in relationships. That’s how you learn.

                “Then why has it been bothering me so much?” did she understand how stained I felt.

                “Honey, you need to let these things go. Part of being forgiven is forgiving yourself.”

                “I’m not sure I can do that.” It’s easy for her to say, what mistakes has she made in life.

“Babe, I felt this way after the first Ryan. I felt used, I know it’s not the same thing but does it help you realize that everyone feels bad about their imperfections?” Hers and my experiences are completely different things how can she compare them? But yes I was slightly comforted by her words.

“What do I do to let this go then?”

“Move on, learn from your mistakes and move on.”

It’s easier said than done. But that is not to say that she gave me advice and then threw me off the deep end to struggle in the water. She could tell when I was down, when I was silent and pensive, when I didn’t smile every ten seconds. She wasn’t the cure that healed me of the wound but rather the balm that soothed me until I could heal myself.