What’s worse, new wounds which are so horribly painful or old wounds that should’ve healed years ago and never did?
Maybe our wounds teach us something. They remind us where we’ve been and what we’ve overcome.
They teach us lessons about what to avoid in the future. That’s what we like to think. But that’s not the way it is, is it? Some things we just have to learn over and over and over again.

When you’ve been with someone for so long, they become the glove compartment map you have worn down and folded over, the trail you recognize so well you could draw it by heart. And yet, when you least expect it, one day you open your eyes and there’s an unfamiliar turn off that wasn’t there before, and you have to stop and wonder if maybe this landmark isn’t new at all, but rather something you missed all along