jmsilverwolf

I've spent my whole life wanting to be someone's hero. Wanting to take away someone's pain. Their fear. Their problems. But I guess I can't do that.

Hell, I can't even take care of myself some days.

And a lot of my friends are intelligent, articulate people. Well educated, well read, insightful folks. They can turn a phrase on a dime and give you nine cents change.

And they've been through hell's I don't want to even think about, really. They've been hurt so bad they sill wake at night with their hearts racing, their eyes filled with tears. They're scarred in ways I'll never really know.

And there's nothing I can do for them. Their hurts are old and deep, and all I can do is listen when they talk, trying to let a little of the poison out before it overwhelms them. And the listening hurts, a lot. Because I feel so useless.

Or maybe the hurt is new and fresh. But I don't leave near most of my friends. At most I'm an email address, an icon in a chat window, or a voice on the phone (if I'm lucky). I can't really be there for most of them.

It makes me so frustrated I just want to RAGE! I want to howl at the darkness and rend someone's flesh, but instead I'm left beating my fists against the earth, and sobbing pitifully.

*Snort* Heh, some Hero.

Thanks for stopping by and being a friend. Silverwolf signing off.