Journal #5

Love & Hate

So Marie began to think of Love. Love, that warrior of time which brings about healing. The warrior that sought to make all things right in people's lives.What need has Love, except love and be loved? She stands on her pillar with her outstretched arms, drapped in a ribbon of pink chiffon. Stands swayingwith the breeze, singing with the melodies of the world. She understands maturity and life; she waits on her pedastal atop the palace gates with rose colored glasses. She waits not for something nor someone. No! She waits for readiness, acceptance, forgiveness, and patience. Marie was likely to find the rose color glasses set on her mantle or placed on her windowsil. She was cheerful and afraid too. Marie had no idea what to expect. She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to stay and fight. She knew that Love had come when she saw a man on the street walking toward her. It was Henry. Henry, the love of her life in high school. The man she never thought would come back. Yes! Henry was walking toward her with a rose! But was it for her? Or was it for the best friend standing beside her, always watching Henry with every move. Marie was going to find out in only a few minutes. She saw the look in her friend's eyes. Marie knew that rose was for her. Hate, that wounded warrior of love, had come to settle among the old friends.