here is some salt for your wounds

When you don't know how to go on, but have to. When you get by, but just barely. When you can't remember what bliss feels like. When the sun seems to taunt you with its unadulterated light. When life is hazed with darkness or days dazed by depression. When every flower has a thorn.
 

Don't give up.
 

I want to to tell you that hope still exists. I am telling you the truth; look at my eyes.
You may think that I am telling you this because I know hope, right now, that I have no right to say this to you when I cannot know or experience what you have. And you would be right to feel this way.
 

But I am telling you anyways.
 

Because I believe in fighting for hope.
 

I am fighting for it right now, myself. It is a battle that needs to be fought, because I need hope to live. And I say this with deep pain in my heart. Moments that will never be forgotten and never understood by others. I believe abundance still exists. So does peace. And I have found that nothing brings unity to a community like tragedy. Joy is never realized, never complete-- no, I would say joy is not true without pain. Not in this world at least. And gratitude can miraculously coexist with anger, grief, and loss.
 

I believe in paradox. I believe in hope. I believe in unadulterated light, even when it hurts to see it shining so brightly, salt on wounds. Still I believe.
 

And I want you to, too. Please. How it hurts to see you this way. Pain written all over your days. Sadness in your eyes, a sadness that wasn't there before. But I will not wish the pain away from you, though I fiercely want to kiss your scratches like a mother and guard your life like a father. But you carry more than scratches now; these wounds will scar. No amount of kisses can heal them; no guarding can protect you. I watch with helplessness, acutely aware of my forced paralysis. With this ache, I pray that you will make it.
 

That you will find hope once again.