Your wound calls to me. Would you like me to join you in your suffering? I understand. It’s very lonely in there! I have worn my wounds like a necklace around my neck for all to see. They were the first words out of my mouth so you would know me and understand that the story of my life did not go as I had wished. I defiantly protested the writer of my story. My exquisite pain would be noted and the heavens would rewind the tape and get it right this time. Sadly, the past can not be rewritten. It is a dead thing, a moment in time that ceases to exist until I reanimate it. I am the IV drip that sustains it and the creator of it’s power over me. I cried when I let go of the life I imagined and started to embrace the life I was given. I can even see the brilliance of the wounds that shaped me. I am in awe of the divine wisdom executed in planning my incarnation. Today I choose to live life freed from the story of my past so I might experience fully the story I am creating now.