Once, there was a person who did me wrong. At the time, I didn't know why I was so sad. But, I cried everyday. I couldn't sleep at night and only fell asleep from exhaustion as dawn broke. I wanted to hate this person. Maybe I should have. Maybe, I did.

I know I shouldn't have because she was only doing her job and I was the one in the wrong and I didn't work hard enough and I didn't have enough sleepless nights to prepare for what I should have prepared for. I didn't give myself enough to the work. I didn't give ENOUGH of MYSELF. I didn't know my priorities and I didn't realize that my actions at the time would cost me so much down the line. Or, so I thought.  I don't know.

Today I thought I didn't care.  And, I hadn't for such a long time. I've met the person I was before it happened and I was confident that I was fine. I became her again. It's been years since I...

Yet, I heard news about others who were given merit for their accomplishments. Something I should've been awarded should I have not had that one slip up. Or was it my slip up?

And I thought I was fine, after all this time. The point is.. I''m done deciding whose fault it was and really, I don't feel sad. But, I don't feel fine. I'm far from fine. I'm not mad. I'm hurt.

I feel as if the wound that I thought was a scar was still a scab and someone ripped it off to reveal that the wound never healed. I just ignored it and forgot about it. I lived as if the scab wasn't there.

I used to believe time heals all wounds and maybe it does for some people.

I see now that the magic hasn't worked for me at all.