I think people hide their pain an enormous amount of the time. I am like everyone else in that I get annoyed and irritated with and unmindful of other people sometimes. But I try to push past that, even when I don't feel like I have the energy to, and spend time with them there because pain is such a common denominator, but it is so extremely isolating.
I hope whatever's next in my life is good. I have a hard time thinking about it except for the times I can make some sort of preparation that might be helpful for later on down the road. I put one foot in front of the next. I know people have extremely bad times, and I know that I'm not exempt from that. But this last year and a half was that for me. I hope it didn't show up too much here, if at all. Because I am no "tears of a clown" type, but I don't do Dirt Chic to whine. But it would be less real of me to omit that it has been extremely rough for me.
I sometimes find and read articles or other bits about successful people who are honest in sharing their dark nights of the soul and their debilitating insecurities, their difficulties in getting where they are, and the kind of subtextual information that it is not always a matter of talent, desire, or ability that gets them there - it is sometimes down to the vagaries of existence. I'm glad people share these things. I also know that I have no idea if I will ever be successful, and I don't necessarily think it has to be about vagaries. But I do know that nothing is a given, no matter how much you want it.
I have to live with this. I have to accept that some of the things you want the most, or the thing you love the most, you have to let go. And maybe, yes, it will come back to you. It doesn't make it any less hard. Hard isn't just hard. Hard is impossible. Yet people still go on with things.
I am not whining, because I have fought a long fight to be able to say that my story, as small as it is, does not have to be compared - but I do feel like I've lost some things I never, ever would've wanted to lose. Nobody really close to me has died, but there are other kinds of deaths. I used to be a person of considerable faith. I'm more practical about it now. I choose to believe that Love exists. It "maims and blinds" but I can conceive of it being "huger than the grave" (thank you, ee cummings). Here's to that. My task is to try to be devoted to it again, but in a different way.
Being "real" is not actually my point in saying any of this. The realness is that I don't want anyone to think I wouldn't be willing to share it. It is there. It has become a part of who I am. So as we try to champion the essentiality in each other, I will certainly try to lift up your pain as much as your successes. They are inextricably linked. Here's to that, too.