a metaphor

Mending is not easy.

You see, you can’t mend people like you do clothes. A good seamstress can make it appear like there was never anything wrong. But with people, there’s always a mark left over, no matter how good the stitching is. That’s just how life goes. There’s always something left over: a loose thread, a seam, a reminder that something that was once whole was broken, then put back together. Sometimes the breaks are small, so small that only you notice them. And some are huge gaping holes that redefine the entire exterior, sewing you back together in ways that you never imagined.

Mending hurts.

A tear, even a big tear, can be over in an instant. You can fix a torn sleeve or a pulled hem in no time at all. Maybe an hour, maybe less if you really know what you’re doing.

But you can’t do that when you’re mending people. You just can’t. It doesn't work that way. Because when you rip apart a soul, it takes a long time to fix. Maybe a year. Maybe a lifetime. Maybe never. The bite of the needle moving in and out, in and out as it binds two raw edges back together can burn long after the rip was made. But we can’t stop. We still we have to mend.

When a shirt is ripped and not repaired, it becomes useless. It lies in shreds, and if it’s lucky, it might get turned into rags for cleaning. When a heart is ripped, if it isn't mended, it too turns to tatters. It languishes and disintegrates until is stops being a heart. And it turns into the rags of a heart. And when the heart goes to pieces, so does the person.

So you must mend. You must take up the needle, thread it, and begin the painful process of stitching. Maybe for years. Maybe for a lifetime. But you must stitch. You must mend.

But mending is not easy.

And sometimes you might believe you're not a good enough seamstress.

But you are.

So you must mend. 

Because mending is not easy.

xo.pa