As children we make tenuous connections friendships based on a glance from a friendly face.
Giving trust wholeheartedly, willing to kiss and hug one another with no reserve.
How shortly this lasts as other desires come into our little hearts, to have more than the other, to be stronger, or smarter. So kids pinch and they pull, surprised when their little friendships are hurt.
and how deep that hurt can be, innocent hearts, trusting hearts, hearts that thrummed together in friendship can be easily broken.
Hopefully we learn respect.
How innocent is the interest of childish desires. Desires awakening in the breast of young girls, and young boys.
Holding hands, trusting, claiming each other, how short lived is this little bond. As young hearts, growing still, bump up against each other, mixed with the messages that they have received from the adult world around them.
This adulthood bond, what does it mean? Holding hands, a kiss on the lips, a look, laying in bed?
Awakening children reach out to each other, hiding in the van by the house to touch lips together and wonder at the meaning of the sparks that fly.
Holding each other close, as they lay in the grass, Edens bed, innocent still.
and innocently hurt each other as well. There is so much more to understand than children know.
As they grow, so does the curiosity. So does the intensity of the flame, they test this flame, to find that it can burn. That with the give and take between them that immaturity can mean more take than give and intense encounters can leave a heart broken and empty.
As adults we find that there are threads, they reach between two separate hearts connecting each to the other. These threads are formed by the trust that is given, one heart to another. Hearts that have faced the reality of imperfection, hearts that know each other.
These threads are woven each time we choose each other, woven and made stronger with the experiences that we share. Forming a fabric, creating something beautiful to wrap new little babies in. Forming a fabric to insulate each other from the harshness of continual judgement, the judgement of the world.
With the trust comes true inhibition. The flames formed from intertwined hearts can be strong and beautiful.
That is, unless... you break a little thread here or there, little hurts, little disrespects. Little things that tell me that I am not all that you dreamed of.
Little words said, mistrust, abuse, judgement of the other.
Pulling away, snipping at, cutting at the threads you believe bind you. Not willing to give your trust, not believing in the theory of intertwined hearts. Never reaching that climax, because of dissatisfaction.
and it hurts, it really does.
I believe in the theory of intertwined hearts. I have woven beautiful fabric, and I have sipped at threads. Then I have sewn them again, and refused to let the threads be cut, they sometimes are cut. I have felt that hurt.
It is hard to trust.
Yet, weaving beautiful fabric together is worth it.
