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Writer's pictureJessie Whitmore

ANCHOR OR RANCOR

After over ten years, I've began to wonder about how we're still together. The words we say and the actions we've taken have not always been good for us. Time hasn't been as kind as it coukd have been, not all of us have changed for the better either. Someone who broke themselves open, laying themselves bare for you, you now turn around and victim shame, blame, or that it's used as an excuse. PTSD is not for you to judge or change, when I would if I could. Depression is not some trangression or a rebellion, its just what I have. Anxiety is not some impropriety against your society norm. If you haven't figured out yet, that I'm not the usual, I don't know what to tell you.


You began as the anchor I clung too in the storm. Being broken when we met didn't help and I thought I needed someone to fix all my broken bits and pieces. Before I found my own strength and voice, I let others lead and define me. I was a soldier in more than the literal sense, following others lead and always hiding myself in the shadows of others others voices and personalities. Always just waiting and listening. Learning all that I could from others while staying silent. Did you cling to me as I have to you through the years? Or am I your rancor? Am I your anger at the world? The whisper in the wind, when you think I won't hear, wearing me down, winding around the issues and yet we persist.


Are we using each other as crutches or do we love each other. Is it love or situational? I never asked for sensation, at this point I'd just settle for rational. All the passion is crashing, compassion to condemnation, reckless abandon into apprehension with nary a look. How is it that someone who ignited such love and joy can also bring such pain and turmoil. I thought that being in love was supposed to be a give and take, sharing life stories, and always having someone on your side. Was it a lie, or just an illusion. Anchor or rancor and how do you decide?



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