I stand in a world of pain and while I shout to those around me of this condition, I watch the thought bubbles above their heads that read, “It’s not my problem,” or “I hope someone else is taking care of it so my life isn’t upset,” or “Let’s count the number of reasons your not worth the time.”
A weighty issue sits on me, regularly; and this issue is, when can I be relieved of this burden called life? I can’ do it myself because I still have a shread of care for those around me, and I’ll not leave them with that legacy. So, at 46, I’m done; convinced life isn’t worth living anymore.
Battered, bruised, the heart can’t take it for a lifetime and remain viable. Such is my heart as rejection is the norm. I hear the platitudes that I should just live for myself but that breeds bitterness. The seeds of the bitter are planted and a crotchety old man is taking form. Ruined I am for this world and a sincere wish to see the next soon grows with each day.
Pain is such a constant friend numbness sets in; apathy. Reaching out, the hand comes back fast for the slap of indifference. Even those of close association turn their eyes away for the inability to see the pain that inspires the song. It requires the effort, the caring, to look for it. The one in pain is bound by the tightest need to remain silent and simply hope, the one needed will see them someday.
The pain is a weight that makes caring if life continues a thin string to dangle from. The one in pain holds onto that string but can’t bring the enthusiasm to care if the string breaks. The heart is broken to the empty eyes that ignore how fragile that hold is. There are reasons the pained one continues to dangle from that string and not let go; though the string cuts into the flesh to provide fresh pain, as the minutes turn to hours, the hours into days and the days into numbing years.
This titanic struggle continues to elude the understanding and hope slowly fades as a new cry goes unheard though others sit but a few feet away.