There are so many reasons to hurt.
So many different ways people hurt and ache and suffer.
So many different kinds of pain.
This isn’t about the pain of injury. Or tragedy. Disability. Inequality.
This is just a plain every day ordinary hurt that is common to all of us.
Living is deadly.
The million little tragedies of a day bring a slow death.
The big ones, the ones others see and fight through with us… Those aren’t the ones.
Those make us stronger somehow.
We rally and find strength and grow.
Others cheer us on.
It’s the lonely battles that wear us down.
They wear me down.
I am so worn down and weary.
This battle is one I can’t put my finger on. It’s something deep down.
Something I’ve ignored for a long time.
I’ve pushed it away for so long I’m not sure I even remember what it is.
But it’s there, nagging.
Like a dead body it is decomposed beyond recognition.
But the stench is there.
It won’t go away until I dredge it up, identify it, figure it out.
And only then I can bury it for good and put it to rest.
It won’t go away; it will always have been.
But it won’t be rotting anymore and stinking up the rest of my life.
