It really does not make sense to choose to love after repeated rejections and hurts.
And I am choosing to love anyway.
It really does not make sense to continue to reopen after repeated boundary violations.
And I am choosing to reopen anyway.
It really does not make sense to continue to speak my truth when others shout right over what I am trying to say.
And I am choosing to speak my truth anyway.
Some of the most impactful choices I have made in my life made no sense.
And I made the choices anyway.
I have insurmountable evidence to justify staying closed, silent, and untouchable yet though it may be preceded by a wince I choose to open and to speak and to love anyway.
It truly makes no sense.
I guess maybe I will never learn.
Oh, it takes me longer than most, I guess. Or at least that is what others tell me.
It takes me a while to choose to love again.
It takes me a while to reopen.
It takes me a while to speak up and out.
I indeed have the timing of someone who has been hurt, rejected, silenced.
So, while my timing may not make sense to others it feels right for me.
The point is not how long after a bruising it takes me to reopen.
The point is that I choose to reemerge at all.
The point is that throughout my life I have continued to fall and then to rise.
To be hurt and then to reopen.
To be shouted over, and yet not remain silenced.
It truly does not make sense.
And I am not one prone to making sense of sense.
Nor am I one prone to explaining my senseless choices to others.
No, I have never lived and loved in ways that made sense to the masses.
And I pray I never will.
