Hagintha Woods

Darling, you’ve come so, so far.

It’s been a long time since you’ve started, when you had to put up all those walls, when you thought it was you against the world. The people around you didn’t understand, couldn’t help you in a way that you needed and you didn’t know how to tell them how it hurt yet. You cried, but you picked yourself back up again, cutting yourself on the pieces as you built them into a wall, a barrier, creating distance where there was none before.

You taught yourself to grow angry, to prick those who took more of you than you had to give. You taught yourself to embrace the ground you stood on, even if you had to stand on your own, even if those closest to you were asking you to do the opposite.

“Sit down, Hag. Please. For me.”

And it hurt. It hurt the way no physical betrayal could have hurt, pierced through layers of muscle and bone to cut right at voice, soul and passion.

They might not have meant harm. We are all broken souls, and sometimes when others reach out, they don’t realise their hands are calloused and hurt to hold. You will never know what they were thinking as their stares wormed under your skin and festered for days, as their barbed words clouded paths that you thought were clear. They might have thought they were helping.

That doesn’t mean they were.

To survive, you had to rip everything to the ground. Give them nothing to hold, nothing to see. Every time they came close, you held yourself closer and faded into obscurity. Every time they tried to see, you threw out a quip, a simple explanation that answered their questions but nothing more.

But we’ve come so far from that, and we aren’t children any longer.

You might not have been for some people, you might not even have been for most people, but you’ve found those whose heartbeats synchronize with your own. They like spending time with you, they enjoy the jokes, and when you say “Help me.”, they try.

You’ve learned how to scout for these people, and actively try to, but you’re still learning. We are all still learning. The world is still learning how to deal with you.

It is unfortunate that your people were not there before, but they are here now, and with them it’s a little easier to breathe. You appreciate them and love them, and defend yourself from the others, but it’s not often that simple.

Though you learned to pull yourself up a long time ago, the scars you stand on are still bleeding.

An act of kindness too soon, a phrase that sounds just a little too similar to one that was used to chafe you raw… You tell yourself that you love them- that if you had to sacrifice yourself to save them you would, but sometimes love doesn’t come in the big gestures, but in the small, minor inconveniences and troubles of the day to day, in the work it takes to build something you both can lean on together.

They step close and all of a sudden, all you see are cracks and blood in the glass. It gets a little hard to breathe, and before you know it you’ve stepped away. Their hands reach out, only to clutch at a mirage, but you can’t help but feel that’s already closer than you would like.

Sometimes, stepping closer feels like the most natural thing in the world. A shared look, a laugh that leaves your sides aching, a feeling that has you leaning in and stretching out your hand, feeling secured and wanting the other to feel the same.

But sometimes, the feeling fades and it feels like you’re left on a rickety bridge that’s a second away from snapping, and every single movement- let alone a step- could send you tumbling back into the pain, into the hurt that is so deep that you can’t see the bottom.

And sometimes they happen together, a deep band of anxiety that coils tight round you.

You smile, but it twitches. You step away.

The bonds you build help pull you out of the sea you drown in, but every time you tend to them, making them stronger, you can’t help but imagine them winding round your throat.

And you can’t help but hate it. These are people you trust, people you’ve allowed near you, but you still hear that niggling worry in the back of your mind, the mindless fear that grips you and shakes you tight.

But you are just afraid. It was long ago, but it cut deep, and you’ve defended yourself for so long that you don’t remember what it feels like to put your shield down. The child within you cries, holding yourself tight. Not again, it whispers, clutching at any holes you open, tearing down any bridges you try to build. Not again.

You try to force it open. Normal people don’t have this problem- but you only self- combust, and normal has never been something that worked for you.

Have patience, and hold the child close. Slow down, and work on opening up together. It’s just trying to protect you- it doesn’t understand. That doesn’t mean it can’t learn.

You are still learning, and I’m so proud of you.

The world is still learning how to deal with you- but that means you can teach it. Over and over again, as situations change. Over and over again, as you change.

As many times as you need.