So we got about 8 inches of snow the other night, and I have yet to discover whether that was a good thing or a bad. Granted it makes the whole world look all shiny and white and pretty, but as the days go on and it melts and people and cars get all into it it makes things look all dirty and gross and I began to wonder is that a metaphor for love?
Think about it, when you start out everything is perfect and beautiful and you are completely happy, just like that first white snow, yet as more people know about it and trek through your relationship it begins to get dirty and black and can go wrong. And as much as you wish that things could go back to the first perfect whiteness the fact is it can never happen until you get a new snow fall. So when do you decide that it's too dirty and too much? That to many people are trekking through it and making it something twisted, dirty, gross and no longer worth that initial happiness and joy.
How many rumors should someone have to endure before you begin to believe they're true? How many moments are you supposed to forgive and forget before that trust is just lost? When do you doubt their judgment and begin to wonder how much they really care when they do things to obviously hurt and upset you.
I wonder how much dirt and grime a person should take before they need to find that fresh snow again and hope that for once that snow will fall in the middle of a forest untouched by hurt, heartbreak, anger, dirt and the blackness of anger.
Or maybe the same blizzard can hit and make it all alright again
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