To see someone at their lowest low, beyond where they ever thought they could possibly be, is to step outside of what is comfortable for you in order to recognize someone else’s significance. All of their layers, pieces and different faces torn, shattered and stripped away, leaving the illusion of someone who is still whole. A translucent shell of their former self, anguish seeping into their heart; each beat an agonizing effort.
To feel someone’s sorrow is to brush against their very soul; to have it cling to you out of hope and fear. It slows your breath, quiets the chaos, surrounds the very substance of who you are. We are meant to connect, we are meant to understand, we are meant to see not what we can, but what we must. We are here not just for ourselves, but for one another. Always.