Perhaps to love is to be hurt. Perhaps to know love is to know pain. Perhaps to feel love is to feel the sadness that creeps right behind and right in. When the time came for me to feel all the divine and lovely, I embraced it with arms wide open as the universe itself. Yet, when life and fate, together, brought to my doorstep the hurt that they'd kept safely in store for me, I could do not much but hide away from it. So, run, I did. Hide, I did, shrinking into the corner and trying all I could to hold back my tears. "Perhaps it would've been better had I let the tears fall. Perhaps it would've been better had I not made that one promise to myself, the same one that I made only for her smile, her happiness. Perhaps it would've been better had I loved a little lesser." I kept asking myself the same questions without any answers to be found, the same thoughts without any conclusions to be converged. Just when we expect it least, pain knocks on the door and walks right in, the visitor that leaves in its own time - an unwelcomed feeling of blue that sways right in, a wicked souvenir of the lingering memories of the past, none that we hold sacred anymore. Yet, perhaps all that we can really do is learn from it, grow in our empathy for others in pain, and do what we can to recover and regain good health. So, I kept my shoulders broad and my chin high, knowing that I would call out her name no longer, that it would all be better someday... one day.