The first thing you see when you look at a rose is the beauty of the flower. You take in the color of the rose, the leaves, the greeness of the stem, the number of petals.. intertwined around the stem in such a delicate pattern. It intrigues you. You get closer to the rose, more and more intrigued by the beauty. That is when you notice the scent. That beautiful smell. After the curiosty of all the senses have been stimulated… you move closer to the rose. You go to pick it and are shocked to look down a see a bleeding hand.
That is when you notice the thorns. If you peel off all of the petals, the “Layers of A Rose”, you would be left with just a stem of thorns. The captivating essence of the rose that once drew you in is gone and you are left with the pain from the thorns that remain.
I think of myself as a rose. From first glance, I am someone that people wouldn’t expect to have these layers, these thorns… and no one really takes the time to truly peel away my layers to reveal the pain that I am often in.. to feel my thorns. Those that try I tend to push away.. I don’t trust people with my thorns… because when I have trusted people, they haven’t been there for me and there is nothing worse than being in pain and not being able to turn to even the people you are supposed to trust. So I have learned not to let my thorns bleed on anyone but myself.. because I will always have my back… right? I can work to heal the wounds of my thorns. But sometimes I do fantasize about that person.. that person that will take on my thorns and understand me on a deeper level. I know that type of understanding exists among people.. just haven’t found it for myself.
Anyways, that is the explanation to the name. I haven’t written on this blog in years and so much has changed.. I am hoping to get back into writing on it. So at least I have a place to write about my thorns… even if no one is listening.