I have a friend with the kindest eyes.
She looks through me and deep into the parts of my soul that have been buried and hidden.
I don’t think she sees them, though, because I’ve become an expert at keeping them locked deep down.
Her eyes are so genuine and real, and they search me with the best, most honest intentions.
I want her to see me, because I want her to heal me.
Those parts that I’ve covered, they lay dormant because I can’t heal them myself – no matter how hard I try.
Those parts belong to the little girl who never fully received all those things little girls should always get.
When I’m tired and weak, sad and broken, the little girl peeks out and looks for that which has always been lost.
And her eyes, they show it all to me – to her – to the little girl still lost in my soul.
I know she can’t heal me, no matter how much I want it.
Only I can heal me.
But if I could have her kindness, her happiness, her genuine love for life that is evident in her eyes, then maybe I could heal myself.
Finally.
(I really needed to write this down. I will be back to the gratitude project, don’t worry!)
