Tell me love stories, but don't skip to the ending.
Tell me how you messed up and made it right, or had it all and somehow let it slip away. Tell me how you struggle to be kind, to be engaged...how you long to be more than your comfort zone. Show me the scars where your heart broke into a hundred pieces, and help me see the bits of string where you put it back together.
The internet loves a happy ending, doesn't it? The bright kitchens, the shiny balloons, the decadent meals, and the far-flung travels. I'm happy for you, darling, but tell me how you cried, how you lied, how you walked away in a fury, or stood still in fright.
Because even fairy tales come with hardships.
Cinderella was an overworked houseworker, Snow White ate a poisoned apple, Hansel & Gretel were practically burnt to a crisp in an oven.
Life gets bleak before it gets bright.
Tell me how you survived; how, against all odds, your heart still beats, and you let yourself fall in love with life again. And I promise to do the same.
I'll show you mine if you show me yours.
photo: Etsy (if you know the maker, please let me know so I may give proper credit)
This post is part of a Blogging A To Z series where I write a new, personal story almost every day (except Sundays). The theme is the hidden messages: the language of flowers.