There is a loneliness that lives in me that will follow me wherever I go. It’s the kind of loneliness that’s excruciating, that rips you open and leaves a hole that you’ll do anything to fill, to fix, to bury the things that you’re afraid might slip out now that you’re raw. No matter how hard I try to forget that it’s there, that I’m tainted, that I’m ruined, that I’m not entirely intact, there is a reminder around every corner, hidden in between every line, behind every smile. And every day I feel that ache and every day I still wonder why.
There are different ways people try to fill that hole, some of which might not make sense to you, but they wouldn’t, not if you’ve never had it happen, not if you’ve never felt that your ribs have shattered, and a chasm has formed right in the middle of your chest. I’ve seen people try to fill it and restore it back to how it was, but just like the new patch of grass over a freshly dug and filled grave, it will never look the same. And, ironically, in trying to fill that hole, that emptiness inside of them, many people wind up digging their own grave instead.
It’s human nature to want to help, to want to fix, to want to stop the bleed or repair the TV so the toddlers can watch Sesame Street, to put out the fire, to stop the bad guys. But there are some things that you can’t fix. I think this is one of the hardest things to accept as a human being: that we can build skyscrapers, microwave meals, learn more about the past than anyone could before, put men on the moon, explore the depths of the ocean, ask a search engine any question, but there are things that will never be explained, that can never be cured or solved or made clear with a push of a button. You view the world a lot differently when you realize we really aren’t as powerful as we believe ourselves to be.
There are some things that can’t be fixed. Your deepest wounds, your battle scars, memories that haunt you whether you’re asleep or awake, the crater that ripped through your chest one morning and hasn’t gone since, are all things that a human being can’t fix. If your iPod is broken you bring it to the Apple store. If a person is broken, most of us don’t know where to begin. People do not come with instruction booklets with a section about troubleshooting. We can only try to tell someone to keep going, but there is no power we possess to make them get off the ground, the only thing that can comes from deep inside oneself, it’s a rarity, but I’ve seen it come from nothing.
When they ask me how I feel on a scale of one to ten I don’t know how to tell them that a number doesn’t even come close to how I’m feeling, that there is no possible way to sum up an emotion wrapped up in a number, so exact, so understandable by all. We create ways to manage the unknown because we are afraid of it. I am afraid that every human has such a complex, but beautiful, mind that I’ll never truly be understand anyone’s, let alone my own.