Insignificantly Significant

I’ve always described love as holistic. To be truly in love is to emanate an energy so pure and powerful that it is almost tangible. You can feel the energy flow from your body, through theirs, and back again. When this love is betrayed, the break is just as powerful. Like a tree whose roots are embedded in another soul, when it is uprooted, some roots snap, and some soul is ripped away with it.
Nobody gets everything back.
There are different kinds of love though. The love between a mother and her child, for one, is a love unparalleled. It is savagely blended with protectiveness and need, to the point where if threatened, there is no reason – just blind action. If this is where the saying, “I’d take a bullet for you,” comes from, then I concur.
Why all the talk about love? Perhaps, because of late, Love and Loss are holding hands, gazing into each other’s eyes and laughing heartily at the wrath in their wake.
I, at present, am wading in a deep, jagged edged pool of both.
Coping mechanisms are variant, and some work better for others than most. I’m remarkably good at dealing with trauma. I can rationalise anything to death. I can walk away, and never glance back. I always say, if I can walk away from my own father, by personal choice, I can walk away from anything. Even when I am not okay, I am okay, and if someone else is not okay, then I am okay for them too. When I’m conscious, at least.
So, what do I do now? Here I am, feeling the concoction surrounding me rise, creeping up my skin as Love and Loss intensify. Do I wait, let it consume me? Or do I dive right in? Wallow? Let the waters warm up to me? Brace the pain, and try to claw my way out?
I know, deep down, what I’m going to do. It’s been done before.
I am overcome by desires to be what real, genuine people need, for real, genuine people deserve support. These people deserve a leg up and a shoulder to cry on. They need a helping hand and a leading embrace. This I will provide. This, I once needed, only I didn’t know it. Neither did anybody else.
I grow tired. My strength waivers. My reserve depletes. If the universe had a checklist of traumas, I’m well on my way to Champion Tier.
I begin to question, why?
In line with thoughts of purpose and fate, why am I here? If I am to be a punching bag to the universe, what use am I to the world? Is this some experiment? What’s next? What more will you take from me? How many more lessons need I learn?
I’m not that important. I’m a number. I personify the universe, but I am one with it. In the grander scheme of time, I am insignificant. I have no desire to leave a mark – no desire to be a folded page in history. There is no purpose, to the universe.
But, my ego. My humanity. My incessant need understand it all.
If I’m here, still standing, still functioning, still feeling any and all the senses and emotions with an intensity not many people would know, both to my advantage and demise, then I am strong. If this is Darwinism is the modern era, I am winning.
But why?
Am I to be an example? Is that it? Am I supposed to show people that they can be strong too? Am I supposed to show them how? Is this perspective one I must share? How many need I save?
It doesn’t matter. I’m here. I’ll save them all, and never lose myself selfishly, because I know I can.

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