There are pains we can easily name. Like when those times we tripped on the ground and got ourselves with fresh, bloody wounds. There are those when we randomly touch a boiling pot and find ourselves shouting in its effect.
Then, there are pains we cannot easily name. These are the intangible pains. Buried deep inside us. Our minds and hearts are in constant battle if we consider this a nuisance. This pain is somehow grafted from past pages someone else has revisited and shown the narrative to you. This is the kind that we get used to the point that we cannot notice that it hurts after all. We get to believe this is just another ‘caterpillar turning into a butterfly’ transformation kind of phase, so we are teaching ourselves to be hopeful in light of its potential to improve. This is the kind of pain that we don’t want to name because we convinced ourselves that it’s not hurting; in fact, it is, in a prolonged and vengeful way.
There are pains we cannot easily name. Or there are just pains we refuse to call because deep down within our hearts, we know it was once pure love.
If you are having a hard time in naming that pain, I pray one day you will have the courage to spell it out.
Sincerely,
Kryz.