The fuzz on my jacket, the scratch on my book, and the bug in the grass
When life gets down it seem like you notice all the little things.
The cracks in the sidewalk, the birds that sing their song
That little dent in your car. Its only when things get bad that the little things stand out.
Is it bad that it has to come to the worst for us to see some of the best things in life?
I feel like in these moments when we try to distract ourselves from the horrors that dangerous activities cause.
Like falling in love.
We have to regroup. Reach out to those friends who stayed when you choose her over them.
You dive into something that has meaning again so that ever so slowly you try to remember how your heart looked without the piece they gave you.
You had to cut a piece out of your own heart to put their part in. At the time you did it so willingly. So happily.
But like any other organ it heals.
The skin so soft and tender at the first touch, then the hard outer cover encases it for the rest to heal. Until you have the courage to remember what it feels like to be loved and to dare to have that feeling again.
Be careful not to pick at it or rush the process.
When you are really the coding will shed, your walls will fall. And you will be in the protective arms of another.
Love is not something you look for. Love is something that happens as naturally as breathing.
And that feeling is truly awesome.
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