You are dying to help, but sometimes it simply isn’t your story.
You know that feeling, right?
A friend; a person you love; a soul that walks a similar path.
A person with whom your hearts beat in the same rhythm, even though it wasn’t necessarily a romantic love that has created the connection.
Or maybe it was.
Doesn’t really matter.
What matters is that now, at this moment, your heart is tightly squeezed.
After hearing that news.
That terrible news hit the heart of someone for whom you are willing to lose your arm.
And for a second you wish you could. Or at least a finger.
You’d do any trade that would help to ease things at least for a bit.
However, your own hands keep intact.
The blood leaking is not yours.
And what makes you bleed even more is that you cannot stitch that open wound.
Another wound of someone who already has so many open cuts, that over time created a unique tattoo.
A specific signature in all facets of a soul.
Just when you thought that there is no more dark ink left.
But there always is.
If there is one thing the world never runs out of, then it’s the dark ink for renewing the shades of darkness that have started getting pale.
Just not to forget.
Now the tears are coming.
This is the moment when the superheroes hide for a moment behind the corner. Say they go to the bathroom. Or they say they were just yawning when the tear was faster than their escape steps.
This is the moment when you do everything to hide your tears because you don’t want to add another burden and you don’t want to be left out from any updates.
You don’t want to be protected like a little child.
Even if each word of the bitter updates was being burnt into your heart forever, you want to hear it all.
You mustn’t drop that tear. Now, especially now, they cannot treat you as a weak one.
Almost primal instinct of maximal attention is on.
If the feather of a hummingbird dropped on the softest carpet ever made right now, you’d heart it as the loudest sound one can imagine.
One of the worst feelings a human being can experience is when he can do nothing.
Nothing at all.
And even if there was anything he could do, it would not be enough.
The pain of anyone doesn’t ease.
The situation doesn’t improve.
The creative mind, trying to find some solutions is spinning like crazy, yet all ideas end up half-finished in a deep well of despair.
Sometimes, you can do nothing.
Sometimes we are all burning in our own helplessness.
Love, dear. This is when they say love hurts.
Love not defined by boundaries or any conventions.
Love that you feel for someone regardless the gender, status, or any other variable.
Do you feel it? Is it hatred now?
Hatred stemming from staying just a bypasser…
And yet, sometimes that’s all the loved one wishes for.
You not making the situation even worse.
You not interfering in any way.
You not showing how much you suffer yourself.
The Universe is regularly testing us on how much we can take so we don’t get out of shape and oftentimes, the strongest warriors have their spines the most bent and most tired once they are old.
It’s their fight.
It’s their step forward in the gods’ master plan.
And you, suffocating by your own idleness, let them be.
In the invisible storm of tears, ready to be there for them when they need.
Wishing you could do more than being helpless…and watching them suffer.