Wounds of the spirit… are most gently soothed and made whole by the passing years. Under the old scars flows again the calm, healthful tide of life…. Under a great loss the heart impetuously cries that it can never be happy again, and perhaps in its desperation says that it wishes never to be comforted. But though angels do not fly down to open the grave and restore the lost, the days and months come as angels with healing in their wings. Under their touch aching regret passes into tender memory; into hands that were empty new joys are softly pressed; and the heart that was like the trees stripped of its leaves and beaten by winter’s tempests is clothed again with the green of spring.
George S. Merriam

We often felt compelled, to hold on too tightly to the hurt, because we don’t want to forget how badly, those we love, hurt us, and, after awhile, the pains consume us, and, we finally learn, that we need to forgive, not those who hurt us, but our selves, for, being, too young, and too, vulnerable.
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I do not know if we can ever be ‘too’ vulnerable after all as children what else could we be?
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