Pulling out the weed

Growing up I didn't have a lot of friends, which is why I chose to take up smoking at the age of 19 or so. That lasted for 40 years until the day I realized just what was motivating me to hang on to a negative habit I literally detested. I had to look in my mirror and see that the nasty addiction was dragging me down not helping me move up. It was a crutch.

Today I have so many loyal honest friends willing to help me be the person I came here to be that I can't even count them. Every one of them is different and brings to the mix their own particular style. It is like a garden full of wild flowers and the scent is intoxicating. The only thing I ask of my friends is that they are honest with me. Even criticism is acceptable if it is positive. Friends often have an unobstructed view of things and I always value their opinions because I know they have my best interest in their hearts.

Sometimes I find a weed in my beautiful garden in the form of a person whose intentions to become my friend are self-serving and dishonest. Quietly keeping an eye on this kind of friend and because I am basically too trusting I often allow it to grow,  hoping against hope that I am wrong in my assessment and it will one day turn into a beautiful blossom. Miracles do happen when you believe.

Given enough time, when the miracle does not happen, I have no choice other than to pull the weed; for I know that if it is allowed to continue to grow it will infect everything I have worked for and my beautiful garden will no longer exist.