Pain?

There is a strange kind of comfort in pain that I will admit.

It tells me, I feel. It tells me, I care. I know that I handled some and it gives me strength to go through more. It gives me much more strength and resolve than the plain routine could ever give. I feel more in control and more willing to change. The ferocity and passion that pain brings, I don't think anything could ever get close.

For I understand this pain and the self-affirmation it brings, its constant company I know will destroy me.

It scares me, knowingly and unknowingly too. Facing the hurt and avoiding hurt are independent for me. I try and run from it and be ever so cautious should it come back in new forms. I try and spare myself, not being too successful. This brings back with freshness the thoughts of 'why can't I just let go'.

It takes a little bit of me every single time while all I crave for is my innocence to be back. To still believe despite .., to still hope although.., and to still imagine. Does it make sense to you when I say that I am scared of the day I will stop believing and hoping and imagining the possibilities?

As much as I find myself in the aches and pains, I don't want to lose myself in it. Not to a point where my innocence is stolen and not to the point where naked burning pain alone is left to explain everything that has been.