The memoirs of my life, filled with stories
of the past that I believed were true.
Little did I only know, it was all based on false truths.
Seen from a child’s eye, felt by a child’s heart, hidden
by a child’s fear and believed by a child’s innocence.
For her it was all truth. And with time it became my story.
How could I not believe her when the pain felt so real.
But this pain was only one part of the experience.
As I found out with time.
Life wasn’t as bad as I perceived it to be.
I just wasn’t able to feel and see beyond the pain.
Now I can. So now it’s time to rewrite my memoirs.
To reveal the real truth within those stories.
The good parts. With the truth that I am loved.