After weeks, I felt alive again. A little. My mom brought me to a psychologist. Its scary at first but the whole process is worth it.

I'm slowly showing progress. She told me that I can be okay after 3 months.

But I know its not.

Its different. The scars can be lost. The wounds may heal. But the unseen bruises they left inside me is unbearable. This one is different. No one can heal this. Except for me.

I see that no doctor can this except me.

This wounds in my heart will heal. Not now but maybe someday.

The knives at my back, I slowly pulled them out leaving the scars. Now I can now breathe freely without the burden of it.

The knives are now gone.

The wounds are gone.

The bruises are fading.

But the scars remained.

And I'm finally free from the chains that stops me forgiving them. I felt relieved. I can now breathe without the clog in my throat.

I felt alive. A little.