As my Father raised me, He taught me the importance of reflection. That is now one of my core principles: knowing where I've been, to determine where I'm headed.
Yesterday, I had the chance to visit my family in my hometown. I took the road trip alone, which granted me silence on the way there, and on the way home. As I passed various places, I remembered people, places, and situations that began to mold me, and break me.
I miss how broken I was, I think? I still am, just less so. In that, there was so much passion. There was raw emotion. There was aggression. Things were rough, intense. I was often left bloody, and bruised, by the time things were over. Tears were tattooed on my skin. Welts were never not visible. Things were turbulent. Chaotic.
I am proud of the progress I've made since then. I believe that I have settled down, established a routine that works for me and Mine. There is comfort in my stability. And, it no longer hurts to breathe.
But..
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