“And Miss Hilly never quite got over Mister Johnny” –The Help

As I’m 163 pages in, I grab a sharpie and dog ear the corner.

As I frivolously circle the top of the page, I think about pain.

My dad has told me that the mouth and the surface of the body respond to trauma quickly. I’ve learned getting over things like love and hurt is like getting a minor burn, or minor trauma. Like touching a frying pan for a split second, or burning your neck with a curling iron. At first, you pull your hand away because the pain is so intense, but it only lasts a second, then it dulls. But then the pain returns, oh it comes back. The skin slowly bubbling and the pain slowly but surely, getting much worse. Then, for a while, you’re left with a raw, open, excruciating wound. Just like a burn, it’s hell for a while. Every time you wash your hands or touch the area, you’re reminded of how badly the burn hurt you. You can cover it up with bandaids, but you never forget that it’s still there, throbbing underneath the protection. But then, the pain dulls. The blister heals. The thousands of layers of skin that were once gone suddenly regrow, all on their own. You heal. Even if you don’t treat the wound, the skin will always grow back. And then, at the end, after bandaids and aloe and TLC, you can’t even remember how badly it hurt. You remember the pain because there is always a scar, but you never hurt as bad as the initial burn. Everything heals over time, and if it doesn’t, the sad truth is the pain will just become a small part of you. You will eventually not even notice it, as long as you keep it as a small part. Don’t let it get big.

In the end, the burn is just another blister. And you know full well, Miss Hilly, no one ever died from a blister. Blisters, just like everything else, are survivable.

It’s just another blister.

Miss Hilly, I reckon you will always heal.