Why is caring about people so hard?
Why, even when they are still with us, do we fear the ways they can hurt us?
Why do we care in the first place?
Why, even when we know they may abandon us, do we still feel the need to care?
Why do we try and fail to accept that they are no longer around?
We love, we make memories, we feel, we question, we depair, we still love.
This makes us want to either push people away or pull them so close as to create the illusion they could never leave. Either one will still hurt with time.
It is inevitable. It's hell-like toture.
It's even worse pain and anguish knowing what others are being forced to endure, how it's affecting them, and, the ways that we can't see that is affecting them. How the rest of their lives will go, the preconcieved notion that a someone will be by their side for years to come completely shattered.
How do you deal with that?
How do you watch someone deal with that?
How do you care for and love another human being? It kills.
It ultimately brings hurt and heartache.
Why do we do it?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Pulling them to ourselves will only end exponentially more painful, but grab them–hug them–hang on for dear life, because that's what life is: it's dear.
And that, loves, I will consistently need reminded of.
