Questions But Where Are the Answers?

The rain falls softly on the window. Reminding me of the little pains in my heart. Fir in every drop lies a memory rather forgotten. Loves lost, friends gone, chances never taken. With the first swish of my hand, the drops turn into a small river. To wash away, never seen again. If only I could wipe the pain from my heart that easily. When did my heart become so black? Was it early on when I did not know what pain was? It seems I have always known the pain of regret. The grip of misery. I learned early the grief of abuse, mistrust and yes even the hatred of the opposite sex. What did I do to deserve this fate? Is there something inherently wrong in my soul and heart? Why do I repeatedly fall into the trap of trusting. Only to wind up getting hurt. Scars heaped on scars. Building walls that no one can break.