Rotten

I'm a great healer. I can bounce back like rubber band. Resilient, bending and not breaking, agile, the whole lot. Generally, this is because I never really let things get to close to me, but c'mon, that's neither here nor there.





I've been through alot of what I call "bee stings". It's like a huge massive tragedy when it actually occurs and it stings like crazy. When you hold an ice cube against it, the ice cube just melts and you get all wet and messy, and then the summer sun gets to you for a minute or two and your good again. But no one can deny that bit of fear that clutches the pit of your stomache everytime you hear that little demon buzzing around you..probably for the rest of your life.





Then there's the time when your goldfish dies. You tossed the ring around the coke bottle and picked "Butch" up at the county fair. Two days later he's belly up and your left with a full canister of fish-pellets (can't figure out what these are made of?). I cried.





Whether it's the half a dozen scraped knees or bee stings, or the couple of fishy tragedies, we've all, I'm sure, had our fair share of let downs and heart breaks. We are quick to grab the tub of ice cream and begin the healing process - usually.





But what I'm feeling is a less-than-eager sensation to heal. I actually, don't even like and can't even grasp the fact that I got hurt after all. Sure, this is the "denial" part, but when I guess that I'm in denial I realize that's a step in healing and I dig my heels into the ground all over again. This is a scary standstill and I keep trying to force time to move backward which HELLO, doesn't work. But I refuse to move forward as well.





Maybe some things aren't meant to move at all. It's like Old Hollywood. We can't go back to it, but we can't keep ourselves from moving forward. Instead it belongs in a snapshot, to be gazed upon and learned from incessantly.