Nothing lasts forever…Even cold November Rain

As I blow out the lone candle on the cake, I laugh at my own naivete. For over a quarter of a century, I had lived my life believing that I was just another grain of sand in the vast, barren desert. Putting myself down had become a hard-to-beat habit; after all that was something familiar over the years. If I put my mind to it, I don’t think it would require a lot of effort to imagine all the things he could say even today to make it all seem so insignificant. He was very good at raining on my parade; and I think he never could have found a more willing subject.

25 years ago when I had stepped across the threshold, I hadn’t realized that it was my first step into a coffin. 25 years of constantly being buried under taunts, sarcasm and guilt, I didn’t realize when I became a zombie. A shadow that was as scared of the dark as the light. Not a single moment went by without being reminded of how “barren” my life was. No happiness, no respect, no love…and no child. 25 years they hoped that I would break and die under the pressure. But they were wrong.

It had taken only a signature to free me from the years of shame. After that, everything had headed up-hill. Today, as I sit here reading the very successful balance sheet of the company I had given birth to and munch on my sugar-free chocolate cupcake, I can’t help but feel a little smug. Boy, was I glad to be back!

Story kick-started by Musetracks



6 thoughts on “Nothing lasts forever…Even cold November Rain

  1. like a page from my journal of shattered dreams. eloquently precise. I cant say the words. it hurts to think back to what I had to endure before. so I write make believe stories. to make me happy. but you write the story of a new born life out of the ashes with clarity and conviction. so proud of you. of your word power and inner strength. you knew happpiness and joy was there for you and you waited and now enjoy it. bless you.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I have known so many really really strong women who have allowed themselves to be “killed” in the name of love. It’s frightening how the one emotion that’s supposed to elevate us can actually be used as a device to manipulate us as well. I write make believe stories too though there are often more real to me than reality. i hope that maybe someday someone (including me) will find the strength to live only for themselves. Doing what they feel is right, not just coz they have been told to.

      Liked by 1 person

      • this is so beautiful for its sentiment and your truth of the matter. I am not strong at all and the stories help me find peace. conditioned through years of cruel intention I still have chains that bind me.


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