Pain

There's all kinds.
Physical.
Mental.
Emotional.
Financial.
Spiritual.
Even gas pump pain..

There's minimal pain.
Moderate pain.
Extreme pain.
Off the charts pain.
The pain of childbirth.
And the pain of a broken heart..

I've even read blogs that mention the pain "cave".
A place filled with lactic acid that you willing
climb into for excruciating long periods of time.
I can admire that, from far away.
But climbing in there myself?
Let me ponder that one...

You can never feel someone else's pain, no matter
how hard you try, or, how much you love them.
You can only sympathize, empathize, or, guess at it.
Because pain is a very individual thing.
Some of us do better with it than others.
We do better with one type, but not another.
I guess we are all wired a little differently..

Some of us are willing to suffer for a reason.
Wars have been won because of this.
Battles fought.
Countries born, and broken apart.
Mountains climbed.
Vows kept.
Medals won.

Some people look for pain.
The pieces of their lives made out of it.
Wrapped around them like a coat they are loathe
to shed.
It's what they've become accustomed to.
Having been awash in it for so long..
Life hurts, but it's a hurt they know.
Not hurting is what is really scary.
They can't comprehend being painless.

Once, before the digits of my age turned from
single to double, my life was like that.
Pain filled.
It was all I knew.
The "happy" I longed for, and saw in other families,
well, that's what was scary.
Happy couldn't be trusted.
But pain could.
It was always there.

Then one day, I made a conscious decision.
Either I was going to allow pain to engulf me,
and end my life..or I could fight it.
I didn't differentiate in that moment, between
one type of pain or the other.
I chose to fight, to resist, it all.
And I walked away and into another life.
It wasn't a perfect decision.
I was only 14.