You certainly have cried a lot about this, but not lately. Memories haven’t come crashing though in a long time, and if they’re ever brought back, you get to fight the tears.
You’re strong cause you survived, and you wear that like an armour. Through times, you’ve learned to talk about it without pain, with no sting in your voice, or sorrow. By now, you’ve understood that it’s become a part of you, it’s made you who you are. Not properly an improvement, but by now, there’s no turning back on it. It happened, and like you keep saying, you survived.
You changed, and made it a point to keep it out of your daily routine. You don’t go where the memories hide, you don’t do what bring them up. You’ve not been doing it for so long, you’ve forgotten what it feels like, you no longer know how to act, what to do not to break down in two before it even started.
And then one day, it hits you. It doesn’t hurt anymore. And you don’t even know how you faced it. Walking by those places brings no memories - or hurtful ones, at least. Doing those things isn’t so scary anymore.
All the pain and the bitterness are gone, all the things you thought you could never do because it would hurt so much, you get to do them now. You may have to relearn how those things work, but that’s because you have forgotten. You have forgotten it all. That must be some kind of coping mechanism that scares the hell out of you, but, hey, the pain’s gone. And that’s more than you could’ve bargained for, you know.