Hurt and Hope

The defining moments of my life are always negative.

Seriously. And it makes me sad... that whenever I think of the biggest, most life changing things, it seems to be the sad things.

Should I try harder, maybe, to let the good things stick instead of the bad things?
Should I try to forget the hard things, and throw myself into the happy things?
It seems like the right thing to do, for a moment..

But then I realize most of those painful things are things that don't hurt me anymore. They are just stories, stories that remind me of how far I've come. Stories that prove what I was rescued out of.

They have become the beautiful things.

And every time I accomplish a deed I am sure I will spend every second of my remaining days regretting, redemption surprises me once again, turning a broken cry into a song. Sewing up a broken heart with threads of beauty and purpose.

And then I think, how can I feel bad that my life is woven through a series of painful events? Because though pain may be at the beginning of everything memorable, beauty comes out the victor at the end of every battle, wiping a slate wrought and muddled with desolation clean, and painting a delicate symbol of life across the top.

Hurt is the roots. Hope is the flower.

And every memory is beautiful.