yesterday i saw a dad and his daughter standing in a cemetery. maybe they were just taking a walk in the gorgeous sunshine, but to me it seemed more like they were there for someone. maybe his wife and her mother had died. or possibly a brother or sister, aunt or uncle or grandparent. they could've been visiting anyone, young or old. he could've just taken her there to teach her lessons about life and death or history. i don't know them so i'll never really know, but it made me think about how much everyone goes through without me knowing it.
you go through things that, whether you tell your friends or not, you can't talk about all the time. it's hurting you but you can only talk about it so much before others lose interest. you hurt so bad you stop eating, or maybe you can't stop eating. the thing consumes your mind, but what are the chances that anyone around you has any idea what's really going on inside of your mind? but you're not the only one. everyone is going through something. lots of somethings.
is it okay that we stop talking about it? is that part of the eb and flow of life? if we all opened up about everything, it seems like the world would be on emotional overload. but it doesn't seem right to keep it all bottled up either. i wonder where the balance is. between respect and privacy. between wallowing and too much self-pity. between helping and moving on. i hate that so many times i am shocked to find out that someone was struggling with something so huge and i had no idea. i want to be someone that anyone feels safe talking to, because i will listen and love and not judge or neglect. and if my friends ever need someone to go to the cemetery with them, i want them to not think twice about asking me because they know how much i care and how much they mean to me.
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