Anxiety; Too afraid to pick flowers

There he was, standing on the edge of a cliff. 

Down that cliff, he saw so many beautiful flowers and without a second thought, he jumped down.

He landed on the flower petals. With its soft touch, he said

"It felt like I just jumped on to pillows" 

And there he was, wandering around the flower field.

He can smell the scent of every flower there, smiling at the one he finds pretty and without hesitation, he picked some - took them into his arm.

But he had not known that they have thorns.

"This is nothing, I will just find the one without thorns and be careful the next pick"

And the story start, a boy in a field of flowers.

With every thorn that pricked into his finger, he said 

"I will be super careful next time, surely not every flower here have thorns and I will find that one" 

With high determination, he continues.

Now, he used almost every bandage he has to cover up the wound from those damn thorns.

"But I can't stop now, all these flowers I like and dream of having"

Then the time comes, when the bandage is all out, no more to save his dream of picking a pretty flower in the field.

And with the pain from those thorns, it had him laying there on top of the flower's petals, afraid to move.

With the fear of getting hurt and without help he might die. He definitely does not want to die.

He decided to wait for his hand to heal and climb back up to the cliff.

"I will go back up and never again come back to this kind of place, it's just not for me"

Even with the wound healed, his fear of being hurt by what he yearns for didn't go away.

And with every flower, he crosses. His only option was to turn away.

"the encounters I had with you have left scars which I can not look away from, and the idea of having you have gone left me"

"you, flowers have many shapes, size, and color but thorns are all the same. Hurtful"

Never again will he dream of it.

Never again will he see it.

And never again will he ever want it.

-

A simple story, a boy and flowers.

Take it as how it resonates with you.

Read it how it reads to you.

And with every flower, you find, be careful of the thorns in which some might not have grown yet or will never grow at all. 

I hope you will find the best one.

I hope your determination is stronger than the boy in this story.

Warm regards,

A friend.