honest.

They laid their hands upon my head,
They stroked my cheek and brow;
And time could heal a hurt, they said,
And time could dim a vow.

And they were pitiful and mild
Who whispered to me then,
"The heart that breaks in April, child,
Will mend in May again."

Oh, many a mended heart they knew.
So old they were, and wise.
And little did they have to do
To come to me with lies!

Who flings me silly talk of May
Shall meet a bitter soul;
For June was nearly spent away
Before my heart was whole.

{Dorothy Parker :: The False Friends}

A friend of mine gave me this poem the other day. It rang true and I tucked it away in my journal. Lately I have been listening to the girls around me, and all I hear is heartache. Lost love, denied love, sharp words, empty promises, disrespect, and confusion. I hate it. Where are the princes we were told of as little girls? How did we let ourselves get involved, get hurt? And why do we continue to let it happen? I want to bandage their wounds and tend to their hurting hearts. I want to sympathize and tell them how well I understand. I want them to know it's okay to have times when you sob till you haven't a tear left. I want to do anything, anything at all to help. I want to tell them the truth - that time doesn't heal all wounds. Only God alone can heal. I try to suppress the building anger...some days it is easier than others. If they only knew their worth...knew how stunning they are. I want to make them believe in fairytales again, even though I'm not sure I do anymore. I want them to know they deserve someone who understands gold when he has it. I wish my words were enough. But, I know I hear the same words and throw them out just as quickly. I have been, and must continue watching my heart closely, to avoid growing bitter and unfeeling. I must remember loving is worth the pain. Taking chances is necessary in order to really live life. I am so very grateful for the few men I have had the privilege of getting to know who have reminded me that all hope is not lost. That kindness, courage, devotion, sincerity, godliness, and purity are not far-fetched notions.

Though life can often be bitter, as C.S. Lewis so well wrote -

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable."

Choosing to love is always the right choice.