The Thorns Remain

by Jennifer Hartmann

I wish I were able to shut out the world, shut out the darkness, and just live. Put the past behind me, live in that joy—in that purity that allows one to enjoy each moment for what it is. But no, I’m always in my head. Analyzing, thinking… overthinking. It’s handy as a writer, but it gives me little peace.

Feel this hardcore

“I like the idea of leaving your mark on people. I think that’s why I enjoy music and songwriting so much. It’s like you’re giving a piece of yourself to others—a tangible part of your soul they can carry with them for as long as they need to.”

You’re only going to get your heart broken again.” “You say that like it’s been put back together somehow.”

“You’ll always be enough for the right person,”

“Emotions give us fuel,” I tell him. “They keep us going.” “Certainly. It’s a matter of finding the right emotions. The ones that will drive us forward, make us better. Give us a purpose we can be proud of.”

“I mean, there is a bright side to all of this,” he tells me. I lift my eyes to him. “I honestly can’t think of what that could be, but enlighten me.” “Things can’t possibly get any worse. It’s all up from here, buddy. Congratulations.”

Real one

“I don’t think I’m better than you. I came to terms with that a while ago, and let me tell you, it hurt. But I know what I’ve done. Betrayal isn’t subjective… it all hurts the same.”

I continue to break. I break hard and messy, ridden with guilt and impossible remorse. But I don’t break alone. I’m not alone.

Phew this hits

“Hell, man. You know I’m not one for sappy shit, but I’m feeling pretty damn warm and fuzzy right now.” He winces at his own proclamation. “No one heard that. I literally never said it.”

Mood

“You didn’t break me. I never got put back together.”

Phew

I’ve grown, finally, and that’s the least I can do after the pain my choices caused. All I can do now is make choices that create something beautiful out of the pain.

A word

I was able to harness my mistakes, my regrets, my shameful actions into art. It ended up being the best way to push through the fog of depression that swirled around me, bringing me down, sucking me dry. It allowed me to take that ugliness and let a new phase of life grow at the end of it.

This speaks so deeply to the healing power of creative expression

I choose you for the honesty you found on the other side of the lies, and for your bravery in sharing it with the world. And I choose you because you’re taking those bad choices and you’re making something beautiful out of them.”