Heal. Healing. Healed?
I’m not sure “healed” should be a word.
Heal? Yes. Healing? Absolutely. But, healed? Past tense. As in done. Finished. Over. Completed. Shut the door and turn the key.
I’m not so sure.
Some days I think I’m there, the wound healed over with no hint of a scar. But that’s just wishful thinking. A fallacy reveled when the wound opens from the slightest unintentionally targeted remark or interaction, triggering the pain and uncertainty associated with the initial cut. At least now I have practice. Practice feeling the pain and the fear. Recognizing its roots. Knowing what part of it is real and what is simply echoes of the past, ghosts that can cause no real harm. I have practice accepting the pain and practice letting it go. I speak its language.
It is said that practice makes perfect. Will perfect be when I am healed? Or will I achieve perfection in the cycle of feeling, accepting, and releasing? Most likely, perfection will remain elusive and I will have to settle for better:)
Maybe I will be healed when I accept that I will always be healing.