There are two things you should never stare at: death and the sun. But what happens when death stares at you? What happens when you literally can't hold yourself up anymore, and you go tumbling down dark staircases behind the school?
I just want spring to come and thaw my heart.
An old man dies at the end of an overflowing life, and a young man ends his own at the very beginning. Neither is easier.
And I wonder, will all of life be this way? For just two months I've kept a special journal, a class assignment, and it is overflowing with broken pieces and the suffering woven through life. It seems, at times, that the hard days outnumber the good. Will it always be this way?
Those who love much, hurt much, and though I've hurt a great deal, I know I could always love more.
So, I'll pick myself up at the bottom of the staircase, and limp away. I'll leave blood stains behind as I go, but I'll press on to love more fully, and will, inevitably, be hurt more deeply. But it's worth it.
It's worth the long hugs after class from friends who can see the pain behind your eyes and remember how, by God's grace you loved them well. It's worth a boss who acts like your dad and somehow knows Greek will make you feel better. It's worth being able to feel deep joy just as keenly as you feel scorching pain, and it's worth the growing ability to love unconditionally.
Pain and sorrow refine love, so in me love is being purified in this moment.
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