Scars…

 
~And the scars remind us that the past is real… Scars.  The odd thing about scars is that no matter where they are, they leave a mark on your body for the rest of your life.  Scars can come in all different shapes, sizes, and quanities.  Sometimes you know when your going to get one and sometimes they come from no where.  Some scars you look at and are reminded of a good time, others not so much.  Some scars remind you of times so painful that you become so overwhelmed.  These scars are the ones that are buried deep within you.  Deep within your heart.  Its a good thing these scars are hidden from view.  The gruesomeness that these scars have left behind is too much to take.  The wounds that created these scars were so deep.  Penetrating your heart.  Scoarching the surface with intense heat and spearing the innermost tender portion of your heart.  The scar has left a darkened appearance upon a spot that used to shine brillantly.  The glow that arose around your heart has been dulled, dimmed to a point where it’s almost impossible to see.  The light of your heart has been diminished to the slightest glimmer.  Sometimes you forget about the scar.  You go through each day surpressing the thought of how horrible it really is.  Instead you focus on the superficial scars that you can see.  Reminicing about how you got them, why you got them, and what your life was like before they were present.  There’s the one on your arm that you got while climbing a tree as a little fearless invincible girl.  There’s the one on your leg from swimming too close to the achored boat.  There’s the one on your knee from the surgery you had.  Some of these scars represent when your life was running on a high.  You didn’t have a care in the world, no one could bring you down.  Others represent your life when all you saw was despair, pain, misfortune.  Reminding you of the long road to recovery from the incident.  Each and every scar has a story to tell.  Each and every scar gives a glimpse into your past.  These scars have molded you.  You think of your most recent scar.  It came from a harsh gash on your heart.  Oh the pain, the suffering that wound caused.  Just the thought resurfaces the intensity of the wound.  You remember the night it was carved out like it was only yesterday.  You’re still in disbelief that the events unfolded the way they did.  The surprise, the hurt, the shut down, the wound, and now the scar.  You place your hand over your heart.  Even though you can’t see the scar, you know it’s there.  You close your eyes.  Allowing the past pain to overcome you one last time.  No, what happened wasn’t fair.  No, it didn’t feel good.  No, it wasn’t what you wanted.  You open your eyes and wipe away the few tears that escaped from under your eyelids.  Then you smile.  The smile grows as you look past that scar to the other times that happened previous to it.  You wouldn’t take those times, those experiences back for the world.  No, they were perfect.  Nothing will change the way you felt in those moments.  That’s the thing about scars.  Usually there is history, a reason why it ended up in a scar.  The scar reminds you of the past.  Reminds you that all those good perfect times actually happened.  The joy you felt, the love you shared, all was real.  Sure, the scar was created from something bad, something horrible, but it also represents the journey you went through to obtain the scar.  Looking at all your scars and feeling the ones unseen, you know each and every journey, and those journeys make you the woman you are today.  So in the end its a good thing the scars remind us that the past is real…