Nails

My father sent me an interesting e-mail. It’s about nails. It’s the story of a boy who learns about feelings, actions and consequences. The father tells the boy to hammer a nail into the fence when he is angry, eventually he hammers in less nails, then for every day he keeps his temper he pulls out a nail. When all the nails are gone the father shows the boy a fence of holes.

Holes can never be fixed. They can be filled, they could be painted over, but they would still be there underneath. These holes are not only created by anger but by other feelings as well. Many of these holes are unconsciously made. Some holes are self inflicted, some are not. Some holes need to be made. Other holes you learn to love. It’s sad that there is so much pain in the world, and to know willingly or unwillingly we cause so much more pain. The pain, the greatest pain is not inflicted by strangers but the ones we love the most. That’s the scariest thing about love. You hurt the ones you love. (How f’n depressing. Sorry.) Maybe that’s why love is something you have to fight for, to work for. You have to give something to get something. The only thing you can give is yourself. Love is the only thing worth while.

Someone asked me if you think you’ve changed from the time you were five, or if you still have the same personality as when you were five. I don’t know. I don’t remember me at five. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I would have liked. But something makes me smile at the image of me being 26, but really still being a round faced, smiley, bucktooth, coke-bottle wearing, pig-tailed girl in a frilly dress with her black “purt.” No, in lot of ways I haven’t changed. I ‘m still a every bit of a silly dreamer. I still laugh at everything(thank goodness).

Some things never change, and that’s a good thing. In the end, you learn to love the holes, because their your holes. You wouldn’t be you with out them.

P.S. I’m sorry for any holes.