# Anger in Grief By [GamgeeWritesPoetry](https://paragraph.com/@gamgeewritespoetry) ยท 2024-04-13 --- My soul opened my eyes at dawn to escape being terrorized by the nightmare of seeing you with someone else. How vivid it was, beloved, down to the very sensuousness of it all, and how it tore through the fabric of this self to see it wasn't me who was given this love, that it was someone more worthy than I. A man free of trauma, unshackled by his fears, the guardian of your heart that you sought, the guardian of your heart that I'm not. I recall my biggest fear prior to starting our relationship was that you would not have the capacity to empathize and bear the weight of my trauma. I recall having asked you why you would choose a person as burdened as I am when you could literally be with anyone else. I recall how out of my comfort zone I was to hear an extensive list of what you appreciate about me. Now I stand with an extensive list that did not warrant worthiness and the trauma you did not have the capacity for. What am I to do with this, beloved? What am I to do with an assurance of loving-kindness after having put the warning sign "Beware: This person is traumatized," only to end up being told, "I don't have the capacity"? What am I to with the list that you've given me when the pain of your abandonment clearly puts my pain above my virtue on the scale? Unlike you, I can't abandon myself to get closer to God. To deny oneself is not to abandon it but to empty it of the world so that it may be joined with God. To be in the world, but not of it. Could we not have traveled this journey with one another? Is the path to God not one where we learn a love that's kind, patient, and edifying? How do you claim to abandon me to get close to God, when you could not even get close to God by showing my pain love, but rather considered it eggshells to be walked around? Are we not supposed to be perfect as the heavenly father is, demonstrating his endless love that leads to reconciliation? I am not one of the boys in the prophecy; I am the man you chose to walk away from, the man who spent his life seeking God, the man who, for six years, has shown love, care, compassion, and respect, unlike any boy you've encountered. I've worked tirelessly to unlearn much of what I've grown up with, constantly killing myself to be born anew, far before I was born again. None of that, however, was enough, and quite frankly, I can't quite discern what is "enough" for you. Take your steps, beloved; Walk away knowing that you walked away not from a person who hurt you, but from the choice to show the loving-kindness of the same godliness that you so effervescently seek. Walk away knowing that God is not found by isolating ourselves from loved ones and challenges, but by letting those challenges be the chance to sow the seeds of the Spirit, out of which we bear the fruits of forbearance, love, kindness, and more. Walk away knowing that I deserve my heart to be guarded as much as you do, and just as you have, I, too, have begged for my heart to be guarded in understanding, patience, and compassion. You indeed did not have the capacity, for you have not shown the fruit of forbearance, to either be mindful in your expression or understanding in your response. That does not put you below me, nor I above you, for I, too, have not shown such forbearance. So please, beloved, walk away knowing that whatever seed you now seek to sow is a seed we could have sowed with one another to mature in godliness. It was never about two people who were not a right fit for each other. It was about one person who did not have the capacity to persevere, build character, and find hope in the relationship. Walk away in the name of God and prophecy if it makes you feel any better, but remember that you walked away not from incompatibility, but simply from a path you no longer wanted to walk because of a stormy season. Your faith was too little to walk into the storm with me, so you walked away and then called me the storm. My trauma is not eggshells to be walked around. I am not a victim. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I do not bleed my trauma on other people with cruelty, nor do I impose it on anyone. The path of healing is one I've been on for years, and just because you haven't seen it in the very little time you spent with me, I see the large degree of healing that took place in my soul over the years. My trauma is not a blade with which I cut those around me but a wound that is gradually healing, and I, as a human, have every right to request mindfulness and empathy toward that wound. Your incapability to do so is your responsibility, not my weakness. This relationship did not end because of my trauma, which I continuously put in the works to heal with faith as the foundation. This relationship ended because of a promise that was broken; the promise that my trauma is worthy of compassion. It ended because it lacked belief on one side, the belief that stems out of the same very godly love that you seek. It ended because the extensive list you've given on our first date was secondary to my pain. It ended because you did not trust us to walk through the narrow road, so you chose the easy way out. Unlike you, I choose to believe that I am worthy of acceptance, and I choose to bask in the sun as I relish the unconditional love of the Son who walks with me through this journey. Unlike you, I choose to build the capacity for my trauma, not by might nor by power, but by his Spirit. Unlike you, I will show myself the love that I deserve and I will receive from him who is greater than you and I, the love that I deserve. I am not shackled by fears, for he holds my right hand. I am not bound by wounds, for he declared that my wounds will be healed and my health will be restored. So will yours, beloved. --- *Originally published on [GamgeeWritesPoetry](https://paragraph.com/@gamgeewritespoetry/anger-in-grief)*