Fragmented Soul

I look inside my fragmented soul, searching for who I used to be. I am broken. Shattered. My true self lost in a deep abyss. I no longer know who I am. I no longer recognize me.

My very essence was ripped apart into tiny pieces. Then I put it back together to form who they wanted me to be. An amalgamation of false truths. I allowed them to destroy everything that made me… Me. Just to feel accepted and loved.

I dug a little deeper into my soul, looking for the remains of my former self. The parts that were dead and decayed from non-use and neglect. But I could not find one piece of who I was. Not one piece of who I used to be.

A sadness crept through me as I realized how lost I truly was. Until something happened. Something unexplainable. A voice, melodic, yet, powerful and determined floated through me.

“There it is. This last one was hard to find.”

I weaved through my brokenness, tracking the voices’ source. There she was, the one that always loved me for me, standing by a large heap of pulsating orbs.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Helping you find yourself, of course,” she answered.

“No, I need to do this myself. Alone.”

She smiled at me lovingly and grabbed my hand, “I will always be there to help, even when you don’t need or want it. Now sit and watch.”

I sat as she picked two orbs out of the pile, handling them with gentle care.

“What are those?” I asked.

“Pieces of your spirt. It has to be mended before it can heal your soul. Without the spirit, the soul is just a husk.”

“And those two pieces specifically?”

“Your creativity and your smile,” she said. “You would have forgotten your smile.”

She carefully pushed them together. A bright light flashed and a crack in my surrounding soul disappeared.

“Next, your laughter and wit.”

I continued to watch as she carefully healed my spirit. She was methodical, intricate in her work, but we came to a point of disagreement.

“This is your past pain and hurt,” she whispered.

“I don’t want that.”

“But, without it, you wouldn’t be you.”

“Maybe, I don’t want to be that person again. Maybe, I should be someone new,” I countered.

“You were perfect the way you were,” her voice low but steady.

“Please,” I pleaded. “Don’t make me relive those emotions again.”

A tear came to her eye as she walked to me. She knelt and cupped my cheek, then gently stroked my beard.

“Your hurt and pain gave you strength because you overcame them. They didn’t defeat you. Without these experiences to mold you and help you grow, you will be a shell of your former self. Worse than what you had just become.”

I looked into her beautiful, brown eyes and I knew she was being honest. I nodded and she continued healing my spirit. I realized the depths of how much she knew me. She understood my strengths and weaknesses, my goals and deepest fears. She knew me and accepted me for who I truly was. She loved me. Unconditionally.