scars.

I stripped down to my swimming suit, not remembering till after the angry marks that lined my thighs. An angel on my left, an apology on my right. I saw them look at the marks. The old and the new. I saw them watch my back, those raised white stripes are a curious sight for you, I bet.

I sat talking with him on the couch. I laughed and smiled and leaned my head against my outstretched arm. I saw his eyes flicker from one to the next, and the next, and the next. I slowly pull my arm back into my lap.

The hardest question that I cannot find an answer for: "What happened there?" I would think after all these years I would have a solid answer, but no. Sometimes I just want to reply, "Life." That wouldn't satisfy their curiosity. What happened? 

I felt.

I loved.

I sinned.

I hurt.

I hesitated.

I wronged.

I cried.

I kissed.

I touched.

I prayed. 

I lived.