I told my friend that I want to get better with conversation.
That I specialize in profound statements, not profound interactions. That I go out of my way to avoid things that create the desire or need for a stimulating back and forth, because there are too many unknown variables in conversation.
He said: he knows.
He said I’ve been through things that would break other people, and the weight of his revelation crushed my chest and compressed my lungs. The enormity of my memories compromised my ability to breathe.
I just want to be ok. But every day, I learn that there is a new depth to the extent that I am not. I wonder what it’s like to be one of those charmed people that is oblivious to pain because they have yet to be tainted by it. But do I want to be among their ranks?
Not a chance.
Each one of these scars is Ground Zero for a pinch of the wisdom I have amassed. Patient 1 with this disease of emotional omniscience. Each scar is a national treasure, making me a government-protected endangered species and I would rather hold the value of being wise than the naivete of being unscarred by life.
If I wasn’t an expert in being broken…how the hell could I help build you? There is purpose in the healing of others. If you’re having trouble identifying your purpose…that might be the one for you.