A Prick of the Finger and a Break in the Heart

June 10, 2008
By Ian Anderson, Stansbury Park, UT

I was recently talking to a friend about some "good ol' times" we once had with people we truly and deeply cared for. You will notice I referred to them as "good ol' times", obviously meaning that they are over. What if we don't want them to be over? How can you feel amazing while doing something totally freaking sweet with the one you care about when their thoughts are focused everywhere but on you? Whelp, you can't. Sucks, right? It's a two person effort, like trying to build a bridge with only one side to build on. The bridge won't be going anywhere.
After she said that we will be dealing with having to suffer without those amazing moments I responded "Not forever, that’s what keeps us going, hope, hope that the taste we had of those amazing feelings won't be the last, hope, that’s why we keep going, keep trying, to get back to those feelings again". I looked over what I said then, I questioned my own advice. Do I really believe what I just said? Will there come a day when star gazing, Disney movies, and tickle fights will once again become moments that I look forward to and hope for everyday? Moments that make you smile just at a stray thought wandering into its memory. I sure hope so.
I don't even know why I'm writing this down. I guess its been quite a while since I did some writing. But mainly, I think it's another form of that hope calling out for remembrance. A form of regenerating my hope and allowing it to gleam in my mind so bright it can't possibly be ignored. A problem with hope being renewed is it also brings back painful memories I try to cast to the back of my mind. Memories of a once great time, bright and happy, when I finally found what I thought was a beautiful rose. Unfortunately, as everyone is told, every rose has its thorns. This rose was considerably more deceiving than many of the others. As I looked upon it I saw very little thorns on its stem. So I reached in closer and took hold. I had to protect such a rare find so when I took hold I grasped hard and protected it best I could.
Excruciating pain doesn't quite put it into perspective. In my haste to claim my beautiful flower, I didn't take the time to look at the rose from all angles. My hand grasped tightly around the stem and, consequently, the many thorns lining the back side of the stem. The thorns lay hidden, just waiting for a victim to grip it allowing them to sink their viciously sharp points deep within. I happened to be the unfortunate victim.
For the longest time I was stunned. How could such a once perfect rose turn out to be littered with thorns? I held on best I could but there was only so much pain my hand could take. Finally, I dropped it. The rose is now gone but the cuts left from its thorns are still healing. Soon they will become bright scars that will only fade with time.
I guess I’ll leave myself, or who ever might find it helpful, some advice or more a lesson well learned. While a rose may appear amazing, make sure you see every side before picking it. Each side holds thorns whether its many or few. Be careful out there, no one wants to get hurt. It seems that heartache is one of the most troubling problems among my friends. It's one I would like to see diminished. Cuts will heal, but only when they aren't continuously re-opened. Don't let those thorns hack at your hand. Protect your heart! You only have one, don't let someone take it, or worse, break it.

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