forges

Been thinking.

Can't believe that it's been a year since everything went down. Since Martin turned his back on me when I needed him most, since the need to pick the pieces of my old life set me drifting towards Daryl and away from the self-loathing I had.

I still have problems, I can still get pretty insecure. But this time I don't give in to the darker impulses. I have forged something sharp and hard into the calcium porousness of my bones, steely and certain. Like compass needles. Swords. Shields.

I know where I'm going now, what I want, what I need to do to get it.

I've been given this opportunity and I will not waste it. It feels worth it, somehow, to be broken so badly if it meant coming back so strong and with more opportunities for happiness, with more love and determination.