Gifted Words

I didn't write the following. It came from a very talented writer named Ellie. If you have never happened upon her blog, please do take the time to check out her writings. I don't know who she wrote this for, if it was for herself or someone else. But it spoke volumes to my heart.

I know what you're looking for. I used to look for it, too. But you won't find your answer here. In fact, although I may know about it, I'm not at the root of it. Like you.
Like I once was.
Even from this distance, with the benefit of time to separate me from the initial wounds, I can feel your pain as if it were my own. Really, I can. I know what it's like to love big, to give everything you've got, then give a little more. To find your joy hidden in the creases of another's smile instead of your own. To be so in love it rides on your breath and everyone around you can taste it in your laugh.
Then to wake up one day feeling as if the air has been stolen from your lungs.
So you go looking for scraps, hoping to make sense of it all. But it doesn't. It never will. All you can do is wonder and hope and cry, because no degree of emotional or spiritual work ever fully prepares you for this. They'll tell you suffering is a choice. I'll tell you that's bullshit. They'll tell you it isn't about you. I'll tell you it doesn't matter. Somewhere in the shadowy corners of your mind you will never fully believe there wasn't something you could have done differently. Better.
It wasn't that long ago we walked behind you. Now you walk with us. Not in sorrow, but in sisterhood.
You are loved.

Today is another day. I know I'm going to make it. It still hurts, but I'm moving on to acceptance. Because I have to.