I carry a bludgeon with me, everyday. I have been carrying it around since Day 1.
It is visible to others in the form of words that come out of my mouth, which seem to have no connect with, or prompts from the brain.
The bludgeon ends up unintentionally hurting the ones I care about the most. Sometimes, I am able to reach out to them and apologize (while really meaning it).
And sometimes, the bludgeon whack comes again without warning, smacking the injured soul in the same recovering spot. And this time when I reach out to apologize, it isn’t enough. Because they’ve been whacked so many times in the same spot, over and over again, it’s never going to heal completely.
But will I stop trying to heal the spot? No.
I keep trying.
Because I love them. They are my world. And it’s because of them I can never stop trying.
To be good. To do good. For them.
But the big question is whether I would be able to soften the repetitive blow before the damage becomes irreversible and non-healable. And that thought terrifies me.
Isolating self seems so easy and convenient. Just walking away, and letting them breathe in peace. They would have time to heal, and would probably heal faster without the recurring blows.
But it’s not the solution. There’s no guarantee they’ll be happier without me. And without the loved ones by my side, I have no reason to be a better person. They are all I live for.
So now what?
The only solution? Turning the bludgeon into foam. Soften it so that it gets more amused eye rolls than hateful eye rolls.
And would that take time? Oh that would take time.
Bringing out the filing tool, always hoping for the best.
PS: This is response post to Daily Prompt: Bludgeon