Highway to Happy

I am a twenty-something woman. I’ve had my share of heartbreaks, disappointments and terrible monsters inside my head. Yet, if there really is such a thing as pain quota, I don’t think I’ve used up my fair share at this point. Not even close to half of it. Although that can be seen as a blessing, sometimes it makes me shy away from other people’s troubles. I feel unqualified to dig into their misery when I, in fact, haven’t had enough of my own.

This troubles me the most when the heartbreak staring at my face is that of the person most important to me.

You see, the love of my life had gone through one of the most, if not the most, painful thing anyone can go through in this lifetime. His spirit was broken; the pain was similar to his chest being ripped open, or so I imagined. That’s the thing. I can only imagine. This happened years ago. And although the pain of such loss is no longer the center of his being, it is still there, tucked at the corners of his heart. Whenever that feeling resurfaces, I listen to him with all my heart. But sometimes, I want to do more than just listen. I want to make this alright.

I want to have enough strength to face my fears and drive away those of the people I love. But how do I do that? How can I be strong when the very person I want to be strong for also happens to be the only soul my heart dares bare its weakness? How do I make him feel he can lean on me when, time and again, he has seen me broken, fed up and expressing intentions to just give up, although not meaning to but just needing to say it out loud?

I am far from getting answers. What I know is that everyday, every single day, I will try my hardest to stand still at the face of his agony, to not cringe despite feeling insufficient and undeserving. I will try. And perhaps someday I’ll figure out that being strong isn’t an endpoint. That strength is not something you catch and forever hold in your palms. Strength lies in the undertaking; strength is in the attempt.

I can only pray so.