Right now you are hanging off a cliff. Now, it’s not completely your fault that you are dangling here right now. I understand that you were pushed to this cliff and now you are hanging here in fear, in pain, in guilt, in hate, but I’ve got your hand, and in order for me to help you up, you have to let go of that burden that you are holding onto. Why do you choose to hold on to it? You know what I’m
talking about. Right now you are holding onto something that you could right
now let go of. What good is it doing you to hold on to that…Fear? Pain?
Guilt? Hate? Just let it go. That’s the only
way I can pull you back up onto steady ground. Don’t look down or you will only
be reminded of where you have been and get lost in your struggle and not the triumph
if you look upward towards me. I
must admit that the weight that is dangling from your legs is making it hard
for me to maintain my grip. So, look up at me, reach down unshackle your
burden and let it fall into the abyss of the past. Then, help me pull yourself
up on this steady ground. The relief will come with tears, but that is how you
know that you have made it. Come on. Pull yourself up. You can do it. Think of
all that you have been through and let it fuel you, don’t let consume you. Just
breathe. Let it go…there you go. Let it go. I got you. There you go. We are
both strong. I’ve got you. You’ve got me. You are on solid ground. Now, grab
onto my waist and let’s walk away. We have a life to live. Triumphantly.
It’s forgettable- the number of times I was called a “fucking faggot” as a kid. As a former child of god, I wasn’t expected to know what those words meant. I was taught that repentance was vital to achieving everlasting life. My momma made me go to church every Sunday. I said my prayers as I was told. But I eventually learned that Catholicism was never my sanctuary. Christianity was never my safe-haven. God never stopped the cheap shots. He never once prevented the harassment or pure embarrassment that I felt from the words of my “kin in Christ.” Now, picture me- a helpless faggot, blinded by the incandescent lights of an old catholic church. I was home from college spending Spring Break in my former hellscape. So, naturally, my momma yet again made me go to church. This time, on a Wednesday. It was Ash Wednesday. When I was among the folks from home, I felt out of place. So much that I’d imagine camouflaging myself. Like saber-tooth in hiding. But the difference? I had a far mo...
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