For all my heroes

There are people who are sad. Sometimes they smile and they’re sad. There are moments when the sun is shining and the mind is dark. There are people who look normal, and they’re empty inside. And that cold emptiness is something that people cannot understand until they experience it. There is a sadness that cannot be described until one experience it. And finally, there is a pain that tears the heart and soul into little pieces.

Some people will experience it once or twice in their life. Some people live with it all their lives. We never know what is going on with someone we know. There are people who mask it so perfectly that sometimes they forget how much pain they have.

There are people who have dark souls. Not bad, not evil, just dark. Like the night in the middle of the forgotten land, like the sky in the cloudy night, like the water of the impenetrable ocean. Sometimes they were born that way, sometimes they were hurt, it doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t really matter to them. What matters is loneliness. Emptiness. Coldness.

Some use anger as a mask, some use laughter, some escape the reality they can no longer bear.

And the rest judge them.

It’s very easy to judge someone from a distance. It’s easy to say they have everything and have no right to be sad. Maybe they don’t. Maybe they do. Who are we to judge others? Who are you to judge me? Who am I to judge you? There is the pain that never sleeps. There is the pain that slowly creeps under the skull. There are days when it’s gone, but it’s never really gone. One always know where it is. It hides in the shadows of the mind, it darkens the soul. Sometimes to be is the act of courage, sometimes to live is the act of power.

There are also people who see. Who feel, who want to help and they cannot and they suffer and they keep asking what to do, how to help, how to fight, why to fall, why to run, how to be? They are the heroes.

Sometimes the best thing one can do for someone is to be with them. There are days and there are nights when words are not needed. There are moments when loving means being, being patient, being present, holding a hand. And not asking questions. Because how to tell someone about such emptiness, how to describe darkness that is so cold.

There are people who are happy. They cry sometimes and they’re happy. They have the power to uplift those who are sad. They have the power to save lives. They have the power to love. And it’s not easy to love those with dark souls. But they do. They are. They save. Saved. Will save.

They are the heroes, they are the mighty, they are the beautiful.

They are loved. Not always openly. Not always directly. Not always expressed. But they are. And they will be.