i fight

I fought…fought with all of my life. I fought to stay alive; I fought to live; I fought to see a better day; To see the light; To see something; To see anything. But why? Why didn’t I push a little harder on that blade? Why didn’t I take a few extra pills? Why did I choose to stay alive? Why did I start looking both ways when I crossed the street? Why did I start eating again? Why did I find hope in my darkest days? When I was left alone, left to fight for my life, I picked to live. I picked to keep on going. Who was I staying alive for? Who was left to care about me? What made me stay when everyone would understand why I left?  

When people looked at me I knew what they were thinking. When I had first told my mom what happened to me I knew she would never look at me the same way. I knew she understood when she had told me that it would be okay if I stayed home. It was okay if I needed time. That it would be okay if I couldn’t go back and face my fears. I knew that she had understood. But that day when I walked downstairs and heard her crying; When I had heard her whisper, “What if she doesn’t move on? What if she never trusts a man again? What if she never trusts anyone? What if she never loves?” That was when I knew…knew I had to keep pushing. I had to keep trying. He took everything from me, but he wasn’t going to take my life. I wasn’t about to let him win. I had to prove them wrong, I had to keep going. And so I did.