Allow me to tell you a story. We will begin with life, transition in to death along with experienced love and then end with a joke. In the beginning we learn that the life lived by a weak and broken man can only kill the one living it. The life of a strong man isn't much different because at the end of it all we are born, depended on, loved and the soul is meant to die. Look at the word death, so grim, so cold, so definite, but one of two constants. The other is so rarely achieved But if we are lucky- and some of us are- we find that one person who makes it all bearable. Some of us call them best friends, others soul mates, a wife, or a husband. I call it the worlds biggest joke. Not for the reason you think, I am not a pessimist. No exactly the opposite, for the reason I call it this is because the end, death, is the punchline and we, the soul mates of death, the strong are to have one person to laugh with. I have finally found my person. To laugh with. To hold. To share my mind with. To love.... But that's not part of this story. That's the difference. The weak man tears himself apart never being able to handle life even with love. But the strong man, he has built the life he lives around the beautiful breath taking symphony that is life. He is able to stand next to his darkest thoughts, go crazy, and still stand instead of getting knocked on his a**. Those are the ones depended on. That's what allows us to "get it". Love makes the joke bearable, especially when the clown known as death comes. He is what makes up the difference and makes the weak and broken equal to the strong. But then again death is a jokester and maybe that's what he finds funny. Mortality. But he will not get me because I am a strong man and I am meant to laugh with her from afar. But that's still a different story.