There comes a point when you are hurt enough; when you recognize the pattern, method, and the ways when what is good becomes twisted to cause pain, and you decide never again. Attempts are still made, but they no longer have effect. You do not feel better—only cold—knowing you are no longer touched by what before struck deep.
There comes a truce, not of mutual desire, but a pause to aggressions when old ways no longer work. Maybe it will hold. Maybe there will come a different angle. Make no mistake, it is not a peace; only a truce, a pause in emotional violence. Maybe it will hold. Maybe it will break, but there is a quiet that holds even when the soul stirs bracing, still, for attack.