Moving on

I sometimes sit and wonder. I mean I really sit there and think. I try to blend reality and my dreams. The dreams that are critical for me to ever hope and the reality that springs me back into motion time and time again. I sometimes lose sight of why I do what i do, but I know that there has to be some underlying purpose for each and every action I make. I've already questioned everything but all those questions were pointless. Some of life's tragedies cannot be defined. I think we're made to feel pain. To absorb it into our every being and feel something, anything. Through all the loss my eyes have finally opened. I now see why people are taken from us. I accept that sometimes life has to end sooner that it should. Even though, through each loss a part of me will be missing.. another part can be filled. I'm not saying that I don't still have those holes in my chest, I'm just hopeful that one day they will be healed. Time isn't what heals you.. I feel like it's the experience that eventually soothes you. The pain makes you stronger. The knowledge makes you powerful. Being selfless every once in a while can do a person good. It's liberating. I feel myself finally, in all of its entirety.