Thursday, April 19, 2012


"What's your scar from?" She asks casually.

I stop and have to think for a moment. What scar? I glance up at her as she stares at me expectantly. Her eyes dart to my arm. Oh! That scar! I look at the pale "T" shape on my arm waiting for the answer to come to me.

"It's from a go-cart accident. The breaks went out."

Her curiosity is satisfied, or either she doesn't want to pry, as my mind starts whirring. I forget people can see it. I forget it's there. I suppose we're all like that. We forget that we have obvious scars. Both the physical and emotional. But they are there and other people do see them.

The emotional scars are just as visible as the physical. I see them on people all the time. You get to know someone and you start to see them. Maybe you didn't notice at first but then you're staring at a scar, plain as day, and you think, "Oh darling, you have been badly hurt."

You don't ask though, because you're scared of the answer. It could be a tragic story. They might not want to talk about it.

But they are there. Right before your eyes. Warnings to everyone that you've been hurt. To be careful. To not let it happen again.