You confessed to me your past and present burdens then let every inch of pain drip out of the ocean that is your mind and I thought about how much easier it would be to have been bedridden for four years before being forced to run a mile on command than it would have been to live the times you spoke of. I cried a whole night and since then never understood why we are deceived by what the foolish would recognize as the 'good' in this abject world. If I could create sentences that would steal the torment from your eyes I would commit to writing a thousand novels, all in calligraphy, so I could die if only assured you would never cease to smile.