Poetry and some other shit

It hurts beautifully

"Does it hurt?"
"Yes, beautifully."
Pain is a fact
Of human existence.
And it's so fucked up
That it's ignored
or hated.
That people pretend they don't cry,
Or that people try to be strong when they're vulnerable.
When really, you should feel your pain to the fullest extent.
Because truly, how beautiful is it that we can feel?
How amazing that we can love another soul so much that losing them feels like you're breaking.
How astonishing that we care about each other so much that we cannot breathe, cannot figure out how to be without them.

And truly, emotions are meant to be felt.
You're meant to live your life
smiling like an idiot because you held hands with a pretty girl.
and
laughing uncontrollably with your best friend because of a text post she read out loud.
and
crying at a song by an artist you've never heard before because
the lyrics just
hit you like
that.
and
forgetting to breathe for a moment because you're on the phone with your mom and she's telling you words you refuse to believe.
and
sobbing because of reasons you can't begin to explain as your best friend holds you in her lap and as you both ignore the Chanukah party happening inside the house that you couldn't physically handle.
and
receiving unimaginable strength as you hold hands with that same friend through the whole funeral service, squeezing when you feel the pain because
you
can't
make
a
sound.
and
feeling the panic grip you during the club fair because everyone is yelling and you can't breathe and people keep touching you and asking you questions that you can't begin to decipher and your phone is broken and no you really don't wanna sign up for the GSA and Jesus fuck can that kid please stop yelling and you're gonna go outside and now you're crying and somehow you're sitting with a girl you barely know and you have Lilly's phone and you're calling that same friend and she can't talk because she's at school and someone gives you cake for some reason and you
still
can't
breathe.
and
feeling one lonely tear roll down your cheek as you text your friend really late because you can't sleep
and you need to know she's there.
and
being so proud that you know someone like that, someone that can reach across so much distance and make you feel safer than anyone living anywhere remotely near you.

That's what it's like.
It's scary.
Terrifying, really.
And I find it beautiful.
That we're able to feel all that.
That we can recognize the happiness and pride and sadness and panic and simple joy
the pain, too.
We feel it.
And it hurts beautifully.