Imagine I could step inside your soul.
Not just peek inside your mind, but actually feel what you've been through: the disappointments, the fears, the thoughts you've kept to yourself, and the hope that kept getting crushed.
I'd see all the time you've spent searching for answers, the plans you've made, and the doors you've knocked on, only to find them closed.
Then I'd step back out.
“Ugh. I feel like I've just escaped a terrible nightmare.
Seriously. How have you been carrying all of that?”
I'd probably sit there, staring at you, wondering what to say.
“Let's leave it alone for now. Who knows? Maybe another idea will come along.”
Not exactly a brilliant answer, is it?
But after feeling what you've felt, I wouldn't have the nerve to tell you to try harder.
One of the worst parts of being stuck is when a little hope comes back.
You discover something promising, look into it, and start thinking, Oh, maybe this could actually work.
Then you hit another wall.
Maybe it's money or something you can't change. Another opportunity that's only real if you have the resources to take it.
For fuck's sake.
Sometimes you look at other people and feel so damn unlucky. They seem to have things you don't, and you wonder why your life has to be this difficult.
It feels like you were cursed before you were even born.
And you have no idea why.
I know people don't like hearing that. We're supposed to be grateful, look on the bright side, and remember that someone else has it worse.
But knowing someone else has it worse doesn't make your problems disappear.
Or mine.
Then come the well-meaning comments from some friends trying to be “caring.”
“Why are you sad? Cheer up!”
“It's not even that bad.”
“Well, I wouldn't feel that way.”
Oh, wonderful. That's next-level tactless.
Some days, you don't even want to think about the problem anymore. You're tired of looking for answers that go nowhere.
Screw it.
Whatever happens, happens.
And yet, you still care.
That's the annoying part, isn't it?
If you didn't care, it wouldn't hurt this much.
I wish I'd found an answer while wandering around inside your soul.
Some hidden door. Some brilliant idea you've somehow missed.
Imagine me coming back out, grabbing you by the shoulders, and shouting, “I've got it!”
That would be fantastic.
But no.
I came back out looking like I'd just survived a horror movie.
And now we're both staring at the same damn invisible wall.
I don't know what to tell you. I don't know why things have to be so difficult for you, or why you have to work so hard for things that seem to come easily to someone else.
All I know is that if I really could feel what you've been carrying, I wouldn't be wondering why you haven't figured it out yet.
I'd be wondering how you managed to carry it for so long.
And honestly?
“If it were me, I'd have died of exhaustion a long time ago.”