The Pits

This morning I woke up with a pit in my stomach. No, no - don't worry - it wasn't for me. Even though it was made clear to me last night that I need to take the trash out, that's not it. It is just a pit of concern. And the concern is heavy, and thick, and it's not going away right at the moment. It is always a rough feeling, when your concern is for someone else...and you care that much. And you wonder to yourself just how much you can do. Just how much you can help. Because you're not sure. Do you scream and yell and try to pound into their head the obvious course of action? Do you push it to the point of annoyance? Or do you tread carefully? Stand aside and only keep the balance? Either way...it can make your stomach sick with worry. I know that I am an adult today. Isn't it odd how that can come to you? Because you know things mean more than they did when...well...when you weren't an adult. Because you know that a situation, a problem, a piece of pain is just a part of a bigger overall picture. And it is all so overwhelming and the pit in my stomach is growing a bit deeper. And it's not just because I have to go to the dentist. It's because the moment you grow up, everything and everyone falls into their respective spots. Like a scene from Fantasia, with fluid movement, to a symbolic song... It's because you realize that dreams are not flowery ideals but calls for action. That pain is not fleeting...but real...and so unbelievably painful. That friendship isn't always having the answer but at least having company in the pit of what becomes your stomach.