We're in the car. She tells me about how she's destroying herself. Eyes on the road, smile on her lips. As if she's proud to be hurting. Showing the world has nothing on her. She's already too damaged, has surrendered to the dark.
I once too felt pride in my destruction - thought that if I took the worst of me and turned it against myself that nothing else could hurt me. If I was the worst of them all what was there left for them to do to me?
If the pain becomes your strongest weapon - it is hard to let that go.
I know I'm healing because I used to think that my self destruction was the strongest part of me.