Quiet Warrior.

When you look into her eyes, do you see only the exhaustion? Or do you see the love which she holds for her life?

As she lifts her mug of coffee, sitting across from you in the café, her arm gently shakes, her hand lightly quivers. Do you think of weakness? Or do you feel her strength within?

When she rubs her forehead, closing her eyes for just a second, do you suspect indifference? Or do you notice the throbbing pain below her surface?

When she ascends the stairs, slowly, slower than you, do you blame her? Do you secretly shower her with blame for not taking care of herself, for not improving her health? Or do you imagine yourself in the same situation?

When you gaze into her eyes, do you only see the heaviness, the weariness. which has laid itself as a film across her once bright eyes? Or do you see the constant battle which she fights, the daily struggle against the pain?

Are you able to differentiate between the enlightenment in her heart and the burdening of her body? Are you able to see her? Or are you already guilty of having judged her?

Are you guilty of having fled from her side with misconceptions of her not caring? Or did you step aside to understand, if even for the most brief moment, the affliction her body forces her heart to accept?

Are you one of those who has made up their mind, decided that she just doesn’t care enough… doesn’t try hard enough… doesn’t want it enough… doesn’t appreciate it all quite enough… before forcing yourself to feel the onerous entrapment of her armor of flesh?

Take in the doleful loss of her vitality, as it was stolen from her with no warning. Force yourselves to feel the agony her body shadows her with every day. Regardless of how much light her heart holds, it doesn’t let her forget.

It wakes her each morning, her body feeling as if it has been pulverized. Her bones cracking like thin twigs strewn upon the ground. Her limbs pulsating in pain, almost impossible to move without sending sharp punishment through her entire body, deep into her head. Every morning the same.

It transforms steps into feeling as they are being taken while weighted down by boulder, forcing all movements to be contemplated… are they worth the agony or not?

Answers to these questions which always receive the same word, the same reminder of strength. Yes. Yes. Always yes.

Always the fight of the warrior.

Never a falter, never a misguided step, never a question as to whether giving up would be easier. She is a warrior. Inside. She fights battles against the pain every single day. Each and every night. She is the warrior, the woman never giving in to the pain. Never allowing it to reside in her heart. She fights. Constantly. Disregardful of how it hurts, of how it empties her, she fights.

This is the woman you do not see. The woman you so easily judge, in your shallowness, with your closed mind. This is the woman with the weary eyes in which you gaze, blindly, blaming her of being weak. This is the woman who is stronger than you. Every single day.

She never condemns you of your ignorance. She never wishes to be in your shoes, free of the chains of her body. She will never give in. She will never let go of her stubborn belief of good conquering hurt. She will never give up trying to win.

She is the warrior.

Let her succeed.