No great genius has ever existed without some touch of madness. -Aristotle

You should never doubt what nobody is sure of. -Willy Wonka

In the end, we all become stories. -Margaret Atwood

It might be possible that the world itself is without meaning. -Virginia Woolf, "Mrs. Dalloway"

Sunday, May 9, 2010

The Fickleness of Joy

It’s there, within you, then it quietly leaves without warning. One day things are going pretty smoothly and the next – wham. Your world has changed. The action of another has infected you and you will now bear a new scar. You try to hide it, getting up and going to work, how are you – fine, how are things – fine, how was your weekend – fine. Lies, all lies.

It’s not depression but a betrayal. It’s a feeling of emptiness, of loneliness, of having a piece of something precious taken from you without your consent – emotional rape. How do you deal with this? Who do you talk to? Who can you trust?

You have to trust you. The task was assigned to you. The person you love came to you with this burden that was more than they could handle and trusted you enough to share it, to ask for help. What made that person think you were strong enough? No time for questions. You will help them because after your heart shrinks to protect itself from the trauma, after your mind processes what was and what is, after your body stops hurting, your heart opens up, larger than you knew it could even though you would rather it not, and you begin to fight. You begin to help that person that you love with their battle because, simply because you love them.

And then your joy will return.

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