i dont think im whole. I still feel broken. I dont feel the same as before. But truth is, im not like before. And i dont think i can even decide which one of me was better. Me now, or me before.

I had a coversation with my aunt yesterday. I dont remember how the conversation began, but we were talking about unforgiveness. I said that i would forgive. But i sit here, in the back seat of the family car, a dark blue mercury monterey, and i testify to say that i still dont forgive her. Her voice still pulses back in through my brain, sending signals to my heart. The heart that will forever more hold the records of her uncontrollable attempts that almost made me a martyr or a killer.

I would fully disconnect from whatever i saw unfolding, taking shape in front of me. Whether it was my mothers muscles reacting to a nerve that came from the brain that was controlled by the other force. I can close my eyes and see her knuckles as they made their way to my fathers face; it was 4am, semis on both sides, going 89 mph. Poignant red burgandy blood running down his face, tears running down mine, and hate all over my mothers. I remember it like it just happened in front of me.

I would worship in my heart. I would worship so within me that no one but me could even feel my vocal chords beating and moving away, words being processed inside.

I misplaced my ipod and i havent seen it for three weeks and a half. I started telling my dad how my ipod was what helped keep me sane when everything happened.

I cant come to a definite and accurate number of how many times ive cried right next to someone..and they dont even notice.

I honestly, really dont like my mother. Shes starting to follow us again.