You see scars around her body.
You see tears running from her eyes.
You see smiles from her lips.
You see a woman without fear, without doubts, without insecurities, without feelings.
You see her, but you do not really see her.
You see an illusion.
Your illusion of who she is supposed to be.
Yet she never corrects your illusion, because your illusion is what keeps her safe from prying eyes, is what keeps her asleep from the demanding world.
You’d never get past her scars.
Her scars that speaks of the battle she has fought.
You’d never get past her walls.
Her walls that was built so high because day by day the memories of the battles keep on flashing back.
If you do get pass, that means she loves you, and love (sadly) is something she cannot deal with because she has fears, she has doubts, she has insecurities, she gets hurt easily, and she is not strong enough.
Maybe, just maybe there would come a time she’d deal with it —. But she’s happy. If you ask her, she’ll say it truthfully and without hesitation.
I’m happy that she’s happy.
Hello 20th self, hope you’re happy wherever you are!