The fine line between realism and humanity gets blurred in hard times. It feels intensely inhumane to let go of hope, to delve into fear for what may coming, to ‘be real.’ But on the other hand, it seems insincere to hold onto hope when there isn’t much of it left. Seeing it as a lesson, or hoping that it becomes one at some point, is a way to cope, for me, right now. Because yes, times are difficult, more than ever. And it’s a new kind of difficult. The kind that leaves me screaming and crying on the floor for hours. And though it seems surreal, it is not. The fact that I need to keep telling myself that doesn’t make it less difficult in any way, it feels as though I’m taking a punch to the face each time reality enters my consciousness again.

But who we choose to be, when life gets to eat us up inside, seems to be the only way to know who we really are. How we handle the difficult shows us, and those around us, what is hidden beneath the surface when things aren’t like this, when life is ‘normal’. And if the line is so blurred, we may need to choose between realism and humanity, because an in between isn’t at reach. I still fluctuate between the two, to be honest, because making choices is something I tend to put off for as long as possible. But being humane, and therefore choosing hope over the harshness of reality, seems to have the winning hand.

Times are tough. Life seems to stand still and being unable to do anything is painful, almost to the point of insanity. But, still, the bond between the people who feel this particular portion of pain, the helpless souls whose worlds have stopped turning suddenly, is unbreakable. We stick together, as we always have, as we always will. And together is a way to win. It’s the only way to go, for now.


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