dichotomy

sometimes, things happen. tragic things. things that rip your heart open, drown you in sorrow for another human being, for your self. when those things happen, you don't know what to say; you couldn't. if you're smart, you keep quiet and simply offer a shoulder, an ear, a hand to hold. that support is what's really needed, and words will never suffice anyway.

sometimes, there's a modicum of guilt in your sorrow - because you haven't had to experience that tragic thing. because your life is evidence of the antithesis of the hell they're in the middle of. because you haven't lived that loss, that pain. it's not logical, this guilt, but it's there anyway. 

sometimes, all you can do is wish for peace and healing and hope. sometimes you wonder if people do the same for you. 

it's the natural ebb and flow of life - good and bad, growth and stagnation, birth and death, destruction and creation. and the rub of it all is that, though you know it's coming, though you know to expect it, there's not a damn thing anyone can do to prepare you when it comes. when it all rolls down hill at you and change is all around and maybe it's good but maybe it's bad, and maybe you can't get away from it, all you can do is roll with it. 

or maybe you dig your stake in the ground and try to stand tall in the midst of it all. 

which is worse? which is better? is there really an answer? 

it's hard to remember sometimes that those around you are fighting battles you've no knowledge about, that they are struggling with things you may never see. it's hard to care, because you have your own life, your own concerns, your own struggles. 

but we must. 

mustn't we?