it seems extremely poetic and tragic, as well as fitting that our plane is flying through a storm. something like a plane, which is meant to be representative of freedom and dreams coming true, is made to feel like something so much less than it is by rain. which so often ruins other things. (or at least we blame it for such.)
i can love anyone in the world. and so can he.
it’s not something i’m usually open about, but my biggest fear in life is rejection. from friends, jobs, from guys. i tell people that for the most part, i don’t care what others think. i brush myself off, stand tall for a second, and move on. but i think after years of doing so, it all catches up with you.
my Gramma didn’t believe in blank-ness. she believed that every page left in a notebook had a purpose. that it would later be filled with the tales of a healed broken heart, or first dance, or maybe a winning run in a ball game. having said that, i went back through my journal and wrote on every blank page i had left when i was writing.
my scar hurts.
Though an army beseige me, my heart will not fear
Though war break out against me, even then I will be confident
-Psalm 27:3
…. don’t pray when it rains if you’re not going to pray when it shines.
i don’t know why we all hang on to something we know we’re better off letting go. it’s like we’re scared to lose what we don’t really even have. some of us say we’d rather have that something than nothing, but the truth is, to have it half way… is ten times harder than not having it at all.
this is for the girls who learn the hard way and live to tell about it.
0 Responses to “My scar hurts.”