I am fragile.
Not always, for my innocent heart has learned to build complex bridges and barriers of strength and independence--some of them grounded in eternal truth and faith, others simply facades. Nevertheless, experience has taught me to become strong and I have learned how to stand and to fight and to control the mind's focus away from those things that could hurt me.
But deep down, a part of me still remains small and fragile, quiet and reserved. I am such a sensitive creation, one who breathes in her surroundings with a vulnerable awareness of the world around me and of the paper thin barrier that guards my heart.
Sometimes I feel out of place, like a soul of glass amidst so many who have learned to become concrete...or even yet still as a child--like a young girl sent to journey in a world full of strange and frightful things who wishes to return home to her shining haven where she was always secure.
There are so many faces of this little self of mine. There is this fragility, but then there is another who resents this quivering heart and demands one of fierce foundations that are far from easily affected--a heart that for once stands up and is not weak.
Then there is another, a face more mature and balanced, who mediates the two and says to the resenter, "Be patient with her. she will grow strong in the end."
And I have no choice but to believe her and to move on, hoping that this sensitive and fragile girl will eventually learn to carry herself and no longer be so vulnerable.
Sigh. I know it shall be. And perhaps when that day comes, I will breathe another sigh of relief in knowing that all the security I ever needed I had inside me all along.
