Tears

One of the most devastating excerpts of my favorite book — the name of the wind — is when the protagonist recounts the tale of his biggest loss. Perhaps the deepest pain he holds inside. Perhaps the wound that will never heal.

He tells it with impassible calm. He faces the opened scar bubbling from beneath layers and layers of patches he mended it with, but blood still pumps through. It still haunts his thoughts. It still lurks in his dreams and taints his choices. It is there, no matter how much time passed.

Certain wounds can’t be healed. Certain cycles can’t be broken. Certain choices can’t be undone, no matter what we try to do to make amends.

In the end, the truth is the truth and all we can do is live with it.

I remember then, in my first read and in the many others after, being compelled to tears. I remembered the weight of everything that’s hurt me deeply. So deeply it couldn’t heal. And I remember bracing myself, trying to believe it would eventually be forgotten. That it would go away and I would, then, be able to live like nothing’s happened.

Life’s not like that. To some it’s a bittersweet candy, like plum and almonds. To some, it’s nothing but a sour, numbing taste. To some, it’s a taste so overwhelming they choke.

I’ve choked many times since then. And every time it hit me I thought the same thoughts. And I still wonder, when and how it will turn out. How another situation will renew the taste.

Nevertheless, waiting for it won’t change the fact that it’ll come.

Nevertheless, it won’t change the fact that we mostly get what we don’t want or think we deserve.

Such is life. Survive it.

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