Monday, April 30, 2012


It's a strange feeling and you'd think (well depending on how well you know my life) that I'd be quite accustomed to it, but almost without fail the people I love the most are the people in my life that are hurting and time and time again they are the people I can do the least to help. I have been on the sidelines of too many games of love, loss, and hopelessness where at most I can be a cheerleader and at worst I am an onlooker that only makes the players more uncomfortable and self conscious. They are always players without teams, and usually without coaches. The people I most want to support and see succeed are the people I can;t help get there. I have kept the deepest secret in the world for the person I care most about in it for over a year, have been the object of the greatest passion for one of my closest friends, and have heard stories I never dreamed of and certainly couldn't have survived from one of strongest people I know. I don't think me knowing even helps sometimes. I don't really mind knowing these things, but if I can't help I always just feel in the way, like a grumpy referee making calls that do not promote fairness but merely make the game unbearable. Yet, at the same time, I generally feel like the only way to stay close to these people I care about so much is to keep knowing and keep cheering, whatever the costs. Perhaps that's selfish. 

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