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It is in the darkest places we sometimes find the truth. The question is whether we will accept what we find, or retreat behind the veil of denial. It is that decision that gives us pause.

And within that pause, we wonder whether we have the strength to console a soul still aching from the sting. We wonder whether we have the courage to move through what remains. Sometimes, there is no better name for it than the ache.

Yet amid struggle, we are at our most real. The masks become too heavy to carry. The lies we tell ourselves require more strength than we have left to maintain them. What remains is not always beautiful, and it is rarely comfortable, but it is ours.

But struggle does not always make us stronger. Sometimes it becomes a noose around the neck. Sometimes it becomes quicksand, and the harder we fight against it, the deeper we sink. There is no promise that suffering will teach us anything. Pain is not obligated to leave wisdom behind. Sometimes all it leaves is the ache.

The struggle does not decide what becomes of us. We do.

Perhaps that is the uncomfortable part. The same darkness that causes one person to reach for something buried deep within can convince another there is nothing worth reaching for. Struggle offers no guarantees. It merely brings us to the place where something must be decided.

And there we are again.

Within the pause.

Perhaps we needn’t worry so much about strength or courage. They have been beside us from the beginning, waiting to be called upon. Not guaranteeing what we will become. Not promising that we will emerge untouched. Simply waiting for us to decide what we will do with what remains.