They say that loving someone who doesn't love themselves only brings pain. That it is pointless. Even that, someone who does not love themselves can not love another. Broken people fall in love with broken people. I say that is completely and utter horseshit.
Please do let me explain. We are all here for a reason. We all have a job to do, leaving our imprint where it is needed most. Our make-up of who we are as a human being and how we connect to other souls.
Some of us are ambitious; leaders. Jumping into action flawlessly as if it were nothing. They take charge, and lead the overwhelmed, guide them and solve problems with the confidence they possess.
-But they need a flock; people to guide.
Others multiply joy, and laughter and light wherever they go. They go find what makes them happy, and magnify that happiness to others. They light up a room and just being in thier presence is care-free and airy. It feels like sitting on the front porch with an ice cream cone on a warm summer day.
-But you can't multiply 0; they need a source from which to multiply happiness.
Some of us build and create. They are the inventors, the do-ers. They don't sit still, constantly on the move. They have a passion to see what they themselves can bring to life. focused on improvement and ambitious to create, to multiply and bring abundance.
-But they need the unskilled. The ones who cannot improve things on thier own.
Some of us are melancholy. Sad in the eyes. Only the lips will smile; only on occasion. They are kind and patient, reserved and quiet, but no less important.
They have known a hurt so deep for so long it could eat a person alive, but still they press on. They look around and silently admire the happiness and innocent joys of others. Like an old, long gone friend, they see it as something they can no longer hold. But they remind us to slow down and spend more time focusing on the important things. Things we love and cherish. They are indeed sad and down trodden, tired. An almost empty well.
-They need hope.
And I believe a small portion of us are healers. Of the heart, the body, the mind. These souls mend wounds and nurse the sick back to health with gentle hands.
When there is nothing that can be done, no possibility of a cure; others run away to go find comfort for their sadness. But they stay with the scared and dying and hold frail hands when all hope is lost. Determined and loyal, they refill cups and encourage the uncertain. An oasis, a place of rest and healing for others whom this cruel World has gotten the better of.
A shoulder to cry on, they look after the strong when they feel weak.
They heal friends, and strangers. Lovers, family. It is a pattern that follows them. They love people who do not love themselves. They love without terms, wholeheartedly and raw. They see what others cannot; there is light in the darkness and they will hold your hand until you see it too. Because they can see it, the value of a human life.
They are hope.
-They need the lost and broken.
Does it bring pain? Is it pointless?
Most often, when the lost and broken are once again alright, they are left alone.
It is a sad duty, but no less important than any other. It is a long and lonely road, but the beauty found in watching the broken be repaired, watching them grow and heal, it is worth it to them. That is their purpose.
Yes, we may play many roles throughout our lives, but I believe we all have a purpose. There is a pattern that will follow you, if it is meant to be.
-Just a small thought had below the stars.