When you’ve weathered the storm, people say you come out stronger and wiser, but no one sees the scars that you incurred, the pain and trauma you endured. They laugh at you for being scared of the light rain but they don’t understand the fear it triggers. They don’t understand the effort that went into rebuilding it all. The cost of that strength and wiseness.
When a plant that looks forward to the kiss of rain drops to make it’s flowers bloom gets destroyed by the wrath of the same rain, it stops craving for the rain. It learns to make peace with the scarce water that it gets from the soil. The thought of the rain drops that once brought it so much happiness instills fear in it instead.
A person’s heart is the same. Once it’s been battered and beaten it looses its lust for love. It just looks to be content with the little it can get. When it starts to feel the soft drops of possible love again, with the happiness comes anxiety and fear. The fear of being hurt, the fear of being broken, the fear of having to pick up the pieces again. What if you’ve become so fragile that you can’t handle being broken again? This time if you broke you’d be shattered beyond repair! How do you gather the courage to allow the rain drops in again? When the risk is so high, how do you gamble? How do you move out of the shadows of the dark into the light?
Should it make it’s way to the rain drops or stick to the water the soil can give it? How does one get over the fear of the storm?