I suppose

I suppose I have faced it all then. Now that it's a year later and I have cried over it until I can't even see my own image anymore. I have screamed and cursed and hated...Loved, then hated again...And maybe I'm talking about me here and you should stop seeing yourself in MY words.
I suppose that I have accepted it finally. Every battle scar that I wear now like a shiny new shade of shadow that covers the dark circles under my eyes from staying up night after night with a sick baby, alone.
I suppose that now that I have appeared before a judge and wiped that presence out of my photo albums and replaced it with a crisp judgment that says "this woman is enough", I can let go.
I suppose I am done now that I have arms that love me from across the province and over the phone and in my dreams. Now that I have a love that every morning wakes me up with a look that says I have succeeded and finally become me.

I suppose that it's probably time that the thought of what was done is replaced by the knowledge of what will come.