During that time, I journalled a letter to myself in which I cruelly laid out every reason I had to walk away. It wasn't a kind piece - to myself.
In the end, the relationship healed, but I always kept that piece that I wrote. I told myself that it was simply a part of our history, and was worth keeping simply for that. But, I eventually realized that I kept it as a sort of insurance policy. I kept it so if there ever came a time where it all blew up in my face, there was something there to say "I told you so." (I know that sounds warped.)
A while ago, I decided that I didn't need an insurance policy anymore. I decided that I could let that go, and move forward in trust. So, as a symbolic gesture, I dug the letter out of the box I kept it in, clamped it in a pair of kitchen tongs, and set it on fire.
When the flames blew out, I dropped the ashes in a bowl. But, there was one scrap that had survived the flame. I picked it up, opened it, and read the surviving words:
"Believe in the truth."
There was a poetic romanticism in that which I liked.
Since then, those words have returned to me often. I am a girl that thinks too much. I can circle a question for days, analyzing every moment, every word, every nuance - trying to figure out what things mean. "Believe in the truth" is a reminder to relax, to let things be, to simply enjoy.
I am a girl who has doubts about herself -- about who I am, about what other people think of me, about what I should be. "Believe in the truth" takes the wind out of those doubts' sails. It allows me to believe in both the truth and in me.
"Believe in the truth" has become a sort of relaxing mantra... words that I repeat to myself when I feel that I'm starting to cave in to questions and doubts, gossip and criticism. It has become a reminder to let the swirling world go on doing its swirling, but for me to step back from it, to remember what I know, and to move forward confidently in that knowledge.
Believe in the truth.