These memories come as dreams, but their validity comes from the pain and the unjustified fears that they produce. They may be dreams, but they felt more real than everyday life.
The first: 1995. I am a small helpless child in a public bathroom, perhaps a campground. I am a young boy who is horribly hurt by someone in a stall in this rudimentary bathroom. I am terrified, alone and vulnerable. I had that dream as a late teen girl, and for years would not go into a campground bathroom by myself.
Second: 2007 or 2008. I am a small girl. young and helpless. My mom - the one I trusted, the one I loved - was hurting me. It was in the woods and I didn't understand why she was hurting me so. I feel like it was the re-living of a young child being murdered by her mother.
Third: I was in a large stadium-like structure with my husband/boyfriend, my long-time love. It was a safe place of worship or education, I am not sure which. A militant group came in, bullets ringing. Many people were shot, including my boyfriend. I cower, and I have no more memory. I wonder if I also was shot.
Fourth: I am in a very, very comfortable place. Something is trying to talk me into "going back." I have been there for a very long time and have no desire to go back to that former place. I am told that if I don't go back this time, I will "miss him." I decide to go, because whoever he is, he is important to me. I wonder if this is a memory from between lives.
The lines on my hands are insane. They look like crinkled parchment paper and have been that way since the day I was born.
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Posted April 11, 2014