I haven’t lived a long life. I have only 23 years under my belt.
But I have this curiosity that prevents me from being naive to the bone.
One thing I have figured out is that all people have wounds and somehow loving them helps the healing but also tears the skin open even more.
All living is about hurting. From beginning to end. Pain, little to excruciating. And here we are.
We all get scared of hurting but ever since we are born, we do so.
We hurt to breathe, to look into the sun, to kiss someone, to love desperately (the only true way to love).
We hurt. And the pain is not unbearable. We take this and turn it to simple pleasure.
The real pain comes when you have your wounds opened by someone. And that person lets you cut through their skin. And the deeper things pour out like hot blood. And there you have a moment that is going to scar you forever. But there and then, you don’t mind.
And then… You find yourself having to sow the cuts. And you have to do it by yourself. And all the time you think: “Is the other person going through the same? Are they being brave? Or are they shouting from the bottom of their lungs with the sores wide open?”
I am filled with wounds. Some scars, too. But the open cuts are the ones I pay the most attention to.
I find myself looking to get cut deeper by someone. And God knows, I want to let it. And I want the fresh, red blood to run from my body onto someone else’s.
I don’t really understand why you would want to sow shut a tear that gave you such pleasure to open…
Maybe you don’t. Maybe you are forced to do so. Maybe you are holding on to wounds that have been healing over time and you forgot that you should have never have licked them and tendered for them. Maybe you are scared of future hurting.
But you are always in pain.
So why not be in pain with someone who is equally willing to hurt, even though it scares you to death?
Just a wild thought, I guess.