Cupid's Arrows....and missles, bombs and guns

Those we love are somehow handed the very weapons that would be most destructive to us. And the most amazing thing is that we are the ones handing over those weapons. In that first flush of love and rightness in the world, we want to share everything, entwine our souls with that other person, and open those rusty hinged doors to our fears and deepest thoughts.

But when the weather changes, the storm clouds move in and those deep thoughts, fears and secrets are then cast about for all the world to see, for you to confront head-on, ready or not - because the tempest that has been hurtling them at you possesses the arsenal you provided of the most hurtful ammunition around.

And even when the storm has passed, the damage still remains. Trees are uprooted, lines of communication are damaged or sparking, and everyone is walking around gingerly, waiting to see if there will be some kind of aftershock explosion.

I guess sometimes there isn’t one and there’s a strange eerie kind of deafening silence until everyone relaxes again. I wonder how people who live in war zones deal with constant tension, waiting for the explosions to begin again.

But once the storms are passed, often flowers grow as if they were waiting to burst from the ground but something had held them back, and the sheer force of the storm dissolved those imaginary boundaries. Perhaps a little violence catalyzes necessary growth. And a little outburst, argument or clash can perhaps create stronger bonds or closer knit ties in relationships.

Though somehow, I still have a suspicion that the scars lay underneath the verdant green carpet of grass..... and deep in the hearts of the people we hurt.