It was a small disappointment, a small hurt. It was a small drop of water. But there were a million small hurts, a billion little disappointments, and the small drops of water had multiplied into a 30,000 gallon tank of relationship flotsam and jetsam. It sat squarely in our path, an obstacle to moving forward. There were objects in the tank, small mementos of past pain. The water swirled and moved in agitation, motivated by the energy of the emotions contained within it. Every so often, one memento would slide up to the glass and we would get a glimpse, a reminder, of the small hurt that it represented. A candle. A champagne glass. A photograph.
When we looked back, our path was littered with obstacles like the tank in front of us. The path ahead looked clear, but in order to reach it, we would have to step to the side and around the million small hurts in front of us. How do you move forward if the way is blocked by pain? Would the path ahead remain clear or also get littered with obstacles of small hurts as we traversed it? Should we smash the glass tank and free all of the little hurts or would they drown us? The next move is on us. I hope we make the right one.