There comes a time when all of a sudden it feels like someone turned the lights on, whilst you were walking around in the dark banging yourself against anything and everything because you just couldn't see. Then, just like after a dark day, the fog is lifted and all is CLEAR...you blink a few times and realise that you WERE lost in the dark. Not knowing what was left or right, front or back. But now the view is unclouded, the trouble is, you hit and broke so much in that darkness, that you actually destroyed the place you were at.
Some of the damage may not be all that bad, just a few pick-ups and setting straights, but sometimes valuable stuff gets broken, so much so, that you wonder if it's even possible to repair. So the option of replacement comes to mind. After all the broken pieces look useless and destroyed. I guess that it mainly matters WHAT was actually shattered, HOW much it meant to you beforehand and WHETHER you still want it.
I know tons of toddlers that carry around a tattered old bear, one eye missing, ears and arms sown and re-sown back on many times, not much left of their furry bellies from all the hugs and kisses they receive all day and all night. But STILL, the toddler loves his bear to pieces ...for all the times they spent together, all the tears they quenched, all the drool they took, and all the love they gave, when no one else was around for comfort. To those of us who had such a faithful companion, it taught us how to love, unconditionally and without caring about looks.
When we grow up, we often loose that sense of loyalty, and it seems the more we have the less we care. When we find a special someone, or even a special something, we no longer keep them lovingly until their tattered looks tell tales of history together, but we let our hearts drift away when tough times generate a battered soul. Our attention quickly shifts to the newer, prettier and better looks of else wheres, not realising we loose sight of what the essence of longevity was. You see, to me, it's sticking to what and whom you love, no matter how tossed and turned it gets, no matter which scars appear. The thing is, those scars are often just a sign of too much love, too many hugs, too many tears, too many cuddles and too many 'tossed in the corners' on that tattered old bear of ours. And sometimes we do the same later in life, we love too much, hug too hard, cry too loud, and toss too far-aways....but unlike in our youth, we don't go back to find comfort in that long and loving friendship, but we decide to close our hearts and move on.
I for one, still have my tattered old bear, and looking at it the other day, I realised that inside of it was where I put my soul as a little girl. Today I woke up opened my eyes and realised that all that tossing around in the dark, was only because I had lost sight of my 'bear'(self) ....of what was actually important, and so I'm left to pick up the pieces, as I would have sown back eyes and arms and ears, I now do damage repair in the comfort of my own mess, and loving it for what it is and what it's brought me...it's the memories that lie within the tattered-ness, it's there that we find comfort and strength and it's there that the love resides for that which we had, we have, or may one day have again. Because deep deep down, buried underneath the bullshit is where our 'old-teddy-bear-like' love lies....find it, treasure it and KEEP it !!!'