So, I was broken.

I reached a point where I felt I was not good enough.
You made me feel like I’m not good enough.
It was not the wrath of your hand but more the sting of your words that ring louder and louder in my ears when I’m alone.

I reached a point of weakness.
A vulnerable state where I had to build walls to protect myself,
which often filtered even the good.

How did I get here? How did I let you have so much power over me?
How did I let you… break me?

It’s 23:45 and I can’t stop thinking.
I’m going over and over everything that happened.
All the good and the bad happened.
Trying to pinpoint what I did wrong.
At what point everything fell apart.
At what point did I fail you, fail us and mostly myself.

It’s 01:37 and I’m crying myself to sleep.
I’m trying not to feel.
Trying not to be.

Then I awoke in the morning,
almost forgetting that I went to bed in tears
I awoke with puffed up eyes on a wet pillow.
But I realized, I’m still alive

I realized that, actually, I am stronger than I think.
That maybe feeling and being vulnerable does not mean I’m weak.
And often, what makes us strong now, is everything that made us weak before.

I realized, more than anything, that I am enough.
I always have and always will be enough.