Much like a wild horse just broken, he felt the yoke of reality placed on his head and around his neck. The rose tinted glasses he’d worn for so long, now cracked. He’d a new found understanding for reality and how it not only affected him, but also how it affected others.
Life could be warm, like a fuzzy sweatshirt fresh from the dryer on a winter’s eve, or it could be cold, as a frozen tundra ‘neath a wintery peak in the driving ice. He now realized that she experienced both ends of the spectrum, in multiple ways. Emotionally, spiritually, physically and philosophically she was thrust into a position that altered her world into a non-objective abstract in which there seemed no end.
The thought was humbling. How could he consider himself tough, let alone think of himself on the same level has her? She truly was a great person, if only those around her could catch just a taste of it, what would they do? What could they do?
The truth is nothing. At least nothing that would help. Shed a tear? Offer a supportive hug? While both strong expressions of human emotion, they both serve the person emitting them, not those which evoked them.
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