Burning Down the Past
I can’t believe you thought you’d destroy me so completely.
You didn’t know that I would be stronger, that I would feed off your anger and that I would kill the weak girl that I was and emerge changed, a sleeping butterfly burned out of her cocoon. Yes, you hurt me. You destroyed my material possessions in your rage and anger. You built a fire of hate. The bonfire of my vanities that only served to set me free.
In the wise words of Janis Joplin – “freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose,â? – I told those words to myself, and I made them true. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger. Didn’t you know that? I thought you did, and I thought you’d kill me. I was so afraid when I had to come back to face you, so afraid that I wouldn’t survive.
I survived. The part of me that died within that fire was dying long before you poured the gasoline, years before you struck that match. You killed the part of me that was trying to drown my soul. Really, you did me a favor.