Scars.

FUCK LIKING THE POST, PLEASE FOLLOW.

7 months are what it takes for the most basic scar to fade.
An eternity is how long it takes to get over it.
Most of us have done things we aren’t proud of, things that haunt us every night.
Most of us have also had things done to us that haunt us every single night.

So allow me to elaborate on the effects my scars have on me. Most if not all of my scars have faded at this point. I’m on the cusp of turning 20 and my body is just as healed as it’ll ever be. But the thing is, every single one of those scars had memories and those memories haunt me, those scars are eternal.

I’ve spoken about a lot of my horrid memories on this blog, but I don’t quite remember if I have ever spoken of one that left me bruised, bleeding and tormented. This is one of the several instances my grandfather took it upon himself to use a thick leather belt to inflict punishment for something as basic as crying too much…fucking ironic…right.

I remember it very well, the sting of the leather around my fragile back, I felt my bones shrieking under the kiss of the leather. The sting arguably the most painful sensation I’ve ever felt…I’m an idiot, I come awful close to cutting my finger off sometimes (by accident).

How blood trickled from the incision the velocity of that whip left. I remember every sensation. I remember my grandmother begging to stop it, and being abused in the process. Even at a young age I was always able to withstand pain to a certain degree, I mean no shit it hurt. I was hardly 10 at best.

But the thing that haunts me the most is the fact that I couldn’t protect the one person that I loved. A while ago I swore to myself and this is a promise I don’t really talk about. I swore to never let anyone place a hand on my mother or grandmother. I mean indirectly I guess I’ve hurt my mom… I warn her not to hit me, she’s the only one who ends up in pain after that strike (to clarify she hurts herself hitting me, I don’t hit her).

A few months ago maybe even a year ago, I was with my grandparents when an instance arose where my grandfather was about to lose his temper on my grandmother, I think the glare of my eyes indicated that he wouldn’t live through that decision.

Shits better now I guess, He’s less angry, I mean they old AS FUCK at this point lol, too lazy for this shit. I’m almost certain that nothing of this sort happens anymore in my household or my grandparents.

A couple of times my girlfriend told me I was abusive because I flicked her arm cause she kept slapping me even though I calmly asked her to stop just about 18 times, and that really shook me up. I would never consciously raise a hand on a woman, and other than maybe a flick I don’t think I ever have. But even that flick fucks me up sometimes. I’m afraid I’m just like my father and his before him.

At this point I just let her “playfully” hit me as much as she likes. It’s better than making her stop. That never plays out well, whether I hold her hand, or flick her arm as payback, I just don’t think its right anymore. Tickling works sometimes.

At least it used to. I don’t think I’ll have to ever again.