I Wanna Feel I Wanna Heal Novels & Stories

"Do I laugh like that? Do I speak? Do I move? Do I look like that? I can't remember what I'm good at (Heal me, heal me, heal me, heal me) Where are you at? Where are you at? (Heal me, heal me, heal me, heal me) Where are you at? (Heal me, heal me, heal me, heal me) I keep looking in the mirror 'Til I see myself, I see myself, eh Hey lover, will you blow my cover? 'Cause I'm not myself, I'm not myself I wake up in the middle of the night

“You are not a mess, Zella,” "I just want to feel normal again. I want to sleep without nightmares. I want to walk through my own house without jumping whenever I see my shadow. I want to go into the gardens without feeling like I need security watching me." My voice broke. "I want to stop being so…broken." "You're not broken," Dr. Holt said, reaching for my hand. "You're healing. There's a difference." "It doesn't feel like healing. It feels like I am falling apart."

He said and I nodded. “Well, when you have him suffering and feeling pain. I want his mate away from him, because I want to be with him, only to make him live in hell.” I said, explaining that I am as wicked as one could get. I want to pretend to be the perfect girl to heal his wounds, but then make him suffer the rest of his days.

I whispered, sweat beads covering my face, I feel so dizzy. "Don't do that again" he states. I look at him after I tried to process what he just said. "Huh?" He asked. "Don't heal yourself anymore. If you need healing, come to me....no matter the situation we both are in, I'll never stop healing you" he said casually like what he said wasn't a big deal.

“I wanna heal yer legs, Stu. Heal yer friend Bobby’s lungs’n his eyes, heal so many people. I wanna help you’n others ta be everythin He wants you to be.” Suddenly it was like hearing all of Dad’s sermons about how God heals the weak and infirm. Blessed is the meek, they shall inherit the Earth, and all that shit. I’d never heard a “healer” preach before but I’d certainly heard the line about how much God wanted to heal all of us, if only we had enough faith in Him. The same old anger surfaced. Years of bitterness and even rage bubbled to the surface, momentarily pushing away my unease. I stumble-shuffled forward and jabbed an angry finger at the man in yellow.

You're at peace and free now, just let the darkness consume you and the light fade. I didn't like that thought, it made me want to live now. Isn't it ironic you want to die but you don't die, then you don't want to die and you more than likely do die. Murphy's law exists here too, really? I smile inside my head to myself. I have decided to fight, I will not be the victim and I will not be the weak one anymore. With that said, I start to tell myself to heal, I concentrate on my body and the damage. I know it's harder to heal when you don't eat right or for longer periods at a time but I can do this. Now focus, your legs first, then your arms, then your face and then the rest of your body. You

“How will you heal me?” “Like I heal everyone that has a problem. I will make the darkness go away, I will restore you to your true self without a strong power trying to burst out of you at any given time. You just have to trust me. You want to be healed right? You want to be a normal boy so that you can have friends and not hurt anyone that comes close to you, right?”

"Okay, then you listen, and I'll talk. I can't tell you how many times I've read the words you wrote, memorizing them, etching them into my brain. Baby, I want all of you. I want to be buried balls-deep in you both mentally and physically. I want to taste every inch of your skin. I don't want there to be a single spot I'm not intimately familiar with. I want to please you and you to please me. I want to hold you, to share my day with you, to love you, but I need you to be whole again to do that. "I know you don't want to face what happened, but you have to. I don't want my touch to ever be a trigger. No one has touched you intimately since then. I want to move through this slowly with someon

he asks, the question carrying deeper meaning than the casual morning version. The truth? Better than I was yesterday, still fragile in ways that might take months to heal, but finally convinced that healing is possible because what I'm healing into feels right. "I'm starting to remember what it feels like to want things," I tell him honestly. "Not just survival or safety, but actual desires for our future." Like physical intimacy with my mate, like holding our newborn son, like watching Maya teach her brother everything she knows. "What kinds of things do you want?" Rhett asks, his voice carefully neutral despite the hope I can feel through our bond.

Look at me now, I'm falling I can't even talk, still stuttering This ground of mine keeps shaking Oh oh oh, now! All I want to be, yeah all I ever want to be, yeah, yeah Is somebody to you All I want to be, yeah all I ever want to be, yeah, yeah Is somebody to you