I have always wondered if the outcasts and the reckless and the brokenhearted, those no different from myself, ever feel things the same way. I know we all obviously feel something that leads us to to think we don’t belong. I just wonder if her sad feels like the color grey while his feels like the carpet being ripped out from under his feet. Do all of our emotions feel different but ultimately lead us down the path to the same conclusion? Maybe that’s why we all find comfort in knowing there are people out there just like us. Wandering and wounded, from there own bloody battles. The way we feel is as unique as our fingerprint. But we all have fingerprints and I guess that’s why we are all the same, yet drastically diverse. The mess of our emotional turmoil makes us similar, encouraging us to come together in our brokenness. But the way we got there is special to each and every person, because we are the only ones who have ever felt and experienced the things that only our life has to offer. We may be broken and hurt and pain has never been nor will it ever be beautiful. But it’s a cherished thought to know we are the only ones to ever feel our type of brokenness. It’s as fitted to us as tailored clothing. And if our pain is so immense and designed to find our weaknesses, who is to say our happiness won’t be just as intense and perceptible to our needs as human beings? Who is to say that our happiness won’t outdo our pain as long as we have the bravery to make it through another sleepless night?