I clutch the journal close to my chest.
I lie on my back and stare at the darkness above me.
I force the tears as well as the sobs back.
I whisper repeatedly.
“I’m okay. I’m whole.”
“I’m stronger than before. I’m whole.”
“I’m not broken. I’m whole.”
I let one tear escape.
Just one, because that’s all I can let escape.
I close my eyes and begin my mantra again.
“I’m okay. I’m whole.”
“I’m stronger than the last time. I’m whole.”
“I’m not broken. I’m whole.”
My voice cracks on a sound.
A sound that’s too close to a sob.
I clutch the journal tighter.
I must be silent.
I must be still.
No one can know.
No one can see.
“I’m whole. I’m not breaking.”