Tangled Mess of Chain

There comes a time in life where you have to be shaken to your very core.  You have to be broken down to dust in order to realize what really is important in life.  Only then can you rebuild a life the way you need to, with what you need.  Peel away the excuses, the pycho-babble, the crap...and you look, you delve, you think.  Through crisis comes clarity.    The book was written over the years, lives intertwined within those pages.  Our story being told real time.  Words pouring onto the pages as though they were alive.  Words washing over the blank pages that held our future.  Together we lived, together we wrote, together we added the words that bound lives once separate.   The book grew into a novel, and the novel got placed on the shelf for safe keeping.  Safe keeping sometimes means forgetting it was there.  The book didn't get read as often as it should have.  The pages still left for words remained blank.  The book is a memory and now the author is me.  I hold the pen in my hand alone this time, holding it over it's blank pages...wanting to start, but not being able to.  The pen shakes in my hand and I want to throw it away.  I want to close the book, with all the blank pages, but I can't.   Love is like a tangled up necklace.  It's knotty, it's messy and sometimes parts can break while you're trying to fix it.  But if it's your favorite necklace you save it anyway.  You take the time to unknot it, and even if there's parts you can't you still keep it.  It's too important to just throw away.  You love the necklace and you've taken the time to try to unknot it, and you've accepted that some knots will stay.  Nothing is neat and orderly in love.  Nothing is just so.  No, love is messy.  Messy like the way a room looks after a 2 year old leaves it, or a 3 year old's finger painting.  Messy like after a hurricane blows through and downs trees.  But you clean, and you rebuild and that love is constant.