Figuratively and literally.
My father was arrested in 2001 after years of m0lesting me - I was 4. I've had a restraining order since then. Regardless, he was deported to his mother country upon his release, so I know there is no chance I'll run into him again, anyway.
Still. There is so much unresolved pain in my soul, and it will take me the rest of my life to understand it. When he pops into my head, I hate him. He disgusts me. He's a monster.
But then I found the book he sent from his prison cell in 2003, "Beauty for Ashes." The same book my mom hid for years. The one I could never bring myself to open or read. The furthest I could get was the summary on the back: "[The author] outlines major truths that brought healing in her life and describes how other victims of abuse can also experience God's healing in their lives."
When I look at this book, I just want to scoff and cuss him out - as if he has any right to talk to me about "healing."
Still. No matter how thick my walls have grown, I was not prepared to find his message inside:
"In heartfelt dedication from your father and ex-husband - for your happiness and the betterment of your dear, crazy hearts."
In an instant, every wall crumbled. "Do you mean to say that you LOVED me?" I whispered.
Every day is another step towards healing. But I don't even know where to start with this.