My mom tells me
"Forgiveness is a journey, not a destination."
I like to believe that.
I like to imagine myself.
Looking him in the eye and telling him
"You owe me nothing"
I like to imagine this train
dropping me off in a magical place.
One where his name is casually mentioned
in a conversation,
and my body's natural reaction does not require tears.
I like to picture myself
scrolling through FaceBook
to see a picture of him
and continuing on with my day
instead of feeling my stomach turn and my chest tighten.
I enjoy the idea that
I will realize how long it has been
since I had a nightmare about
My Small Body
But I am not there.
This train ride is long.
And it took twelve years to even contemplait purchasing my ticket.
The seats of the train
Painful to sit on for too long.
when the train stops I think
"I could settle for this place"
But as I try to grab my belongings
my mind starts racing.
I look around
and see how far I am from where I started.
I look in the mirror and see my smile.
One that doesn't look forced anymore.
I see my body.
So much stronger than it was on that day.
Stained from tears I've shed at different points in my life.
I am still standing straight.
I smell my clothes
and they smell like
Like I imagine good memories smell like.
Like the words
"You can cry if you need to"
"It's your pace"
"I can't wait to marry you."
So I convince myself
to set down my things.
I close the blinds to avoid temptations of leaving.
I sit in my seat.
It's still uncomfortable
it's starting to feel right.