You seemed so self-sufficient. You needed little, gave little and asked for little. I stood before you and watched the elements rage at you. You stood alone and exposed, on a harsh spot where the sand storms are frequent. The heat of the sun unforgivingly shone upon you. You didn’t wilt, you didn’t bend. You just stood with your thorns stretched towards the world as if daring anyone or anything to come at you.

I walked towards you closer, and closer, with my hands, stretched wide. You stood before me proud and unyielding. You gave me nothing much but the acknowledgment that I was allowed to approach you. I found that enough… I moved forward until we were face to face, on the brink of an embrace.

Then we made contact, and my whole being was lit with sensations! My skin burned as your sharp thorns pierced their way through me. My self-preservation warning me to let go of the pain but a weaker part of me marveled at the strength and strange comfort of standing with your support. I made a decision that I loved the stability more than I feared the pain, and so I moved closer, and closer until we formed a tight hug. I felt the thorns piercing deep and sure, but the pain was numbed by relief. I had found such a strong stand with you that I could slump and relax but remain upright. I didn’t want to stand alone anymore and so, I moved and covered the last distance between us wrapping my arms around you. We then stood as one. I was you, you were me. You were strength, pride, and resilience, and I was softness and warmth. We made sense together.
we faced it all; the rain, the stormy winds, the unforgiving scorch of the sun…We faced it all in our stronghold of each other. The elements couldn’t tear us apart.

Us being creatures from different places, however, was a sobering reality. I missed the shade. I thirsted for cool water, but you could only give a sap when your strong bark chipped. This sap burned and had me wiggling for relief. The wiggling twisted the thorns lodged into my skin and together they formed a hot dance of pain. I willed myself to stay still, breathe softly until the burning stopped. This would have been easy if you bled from one chipped spot. You, however, accumulated chips with time, and what once was a drop of burning pain turned into a trickle, then a shower of agony.

I couldn’t control my yelps while I yanked myself off of you.
My skin protested the sudden separation. I stood on weak limbs that were accustomed to your support. The thorns left open gushes on my skin that were now bleeding while my skin burned still.

In my blind struggle, I convinced myself that: I want your embrace back. I want the support and the cover to my open wounds even though they’d be covered by the same thorns that created them. I want to stand with you, strong and proud with a burning skin. I prefer that to standing alone, bleeding, weak and still burning.

I walked back to you, braced myself for the piercing thorns…

We now make contact, my senses scream, too loud for me to ignore them. I take a step back. You stare at me, strong and proud. You don’t take even the tiniest step towards me. I know you miss my warmth, my softness and how it compliments your strength and acid sap. But you stare at me proud, unyielding and ungiving. Your posture speaks of no compromise, no sacrifices. You are what you are and are not about to change for a soft creature from the water and shade. I realize now that I have to take the steps, I have to hold on to you, I have to embody you and bear you. Even if that takes my being away…

I take another step back; your thorns painfully release my skin. I take another step back; my open wounds start to bleed. I take another step back; my limbs start shaking from the weight they had forgotten to carry. I keep taking these steps back and each one of them is pure agony. I keep taking these steps until I find my shade again. Until I find the water and green trees that nourish my existence. There, I sit and slowly will learn to heal myself. There I will learn to have faith in the creature that I am and stand on my own. It’s going to hurt, it’s going to bleed, but it’s the only way to myself. Memories of you are bitter-sweet. I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’m relieved, I’m grateful. But one thing I’m pretty sure of is this:

You are a beautiful lesson, dear Cactus.

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