A Lonely Way

You have to find something you think is worth living for.

That’s what I keep telling her, hoping she’ll find something to live for that is good. And true. And healthy.

Something that will keep him going.

Something that will give them the energy to open their eyes and get out of bed.

Something that will keep her looking forward.

Keep him dreaming.

Keep them…here.

I asked her once to imagine being the parent.

He asked me to imagine embodying the pain he is in.

They've taken it upon themself to hold the responsibility of fiercely protecting everyone else to their own mental demise.

A mind too young to realize the impossible weight of this self-imposed responsibility while the body, will, soul, and heart twist herself into submission, creating havoc within…and without.

The heaviness of his devotion slowly tearing him apart.

We were never meant to carry the weight of the world by ourselves.

Some things are too much for us to carry alone.

No matter how much I see, know, wish and want, I cannot just take their burdens from them.

She must be willing to share them with me and I must earn that right, in her eyes.

There must be trust.

Honesty.

Willingness.

Empathy.

Understanding.

Patience.

Presence. 

There is holiness in the act of sharing our burdens with others.

A holiness found when trust kisses vulnerability.

One earned, the other one, re-learned.

The young mind, carrying the weight of the world, is searching for answers.

Trying on personas.

Finding his identity.

Discovering something they believe is worth living for.

No matter how desperately I want to take her burdens from her, this is the long and lonely journey she must traverse. 

What I can do is be present.

A soft place for him to land.

The safe and secure place for them to call home.

Where she knows she is loved.

Where he knows he's accepted.

Where they know they aren't expected to be anything other than who they are in this moment. 

The safe place she needs in order to find her own lonely way in this world.