Just as beauty is born of love, so too is bitterness born of loss.
I wonder what of the troubles of this world is caused by broken hearts, rather than wilful greed?
It is the sense of loss, or inadequacy in the eyes of those most cherished, that our worst behaviour comes to the fore.
But there is value even in that.
If not for still holding on to hope, such an expression of rage or harm would not have any purpose.
It is only when we still have hope of our pain being consequential that we choose to share our discontent with the world.
Therefore, it is not the raging lunatic that is most hurt, but the silent one who has no hope of being seen.
Sometimes their silence is the build up to the storm of destruction that they need to unleash in their final attempt to be heard.
But often, it’s the abandonment of dreams that perhaps the world really needed.
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A bitter ache
