Sensations

It is funny what things come up when you type a word into google and just see what you get when you put the I'm Feeling Lucky button. Try it with the title of this blog. Anywho, my pace of writing has been slower since my opening salvo. Partially because sometimes I am lazy, other times because I don't have anything to talk about and I try not to say the same things over and over again, unless I think that by doing so I will accomplish something, or perhaps I was just not understood the first time.
So why go with what I did for a title? Well, I have been thinking about things for a while. One thought that has been crossing my mind is a question of toughness. Am I tough? Now while this may seem like a juvenile question, the ramifications of such a question are not. By toughness I am talking about taking pain. Physical, emotion, or spiritual pain. Is something that is painful to me be as painful for someone else? Do tougher people feel less pain?
I imagine that if feelings could be transferred, and experienced the exact same way by two different people, then possibly this question could be answered. Modern medical science is of no help with this, and the pain scale (Ask the patient on a scale of 1-10 of how much it hurts) does not necessarily mean that two people feel pain exactly the same way.
I ask myself these questions because as a man, toughness is an important quality. We realize that the fairer sex is in fact tougher (especially during child birthing), but we must show it outwardly more than they do. We are to be made of steel. We are the defender of the keep, coated in iron and all injuries are to bounce off. We feel nothing. I look at those who epitomize this very ideal, and can see no pain on their face. Do they truly not feel it? Or do they just hide it? If they could, would they remain solid if they had my pain? Could I with theirs?
This is crux of the question. We all wish to empathize with others, but what they truly feel quite possibly cannot be felt by another. Words are a poor conduit for describing and relaying how one feels.
Having said that, this poor modicum of bleating out the pain is all that we have. What pain do I feel? Other than the normal hurts of life, I have but one that recently vexes me. Longing. There is someone that I miss. A tortured soul, bewitched by her own loss. I miss the times that we talked at length, and the short times that we spent in each other presence. In my mind I have the nagging sensation that the current lack of the former and the latter is somehow my fault, and I wish that is was. If it was the case, then possibly I could fix this, or at least understand why. I cannot grasp entirely the pain that troubles her, and realize that I cannot soothe it. I, being the archetype of man, will continue to try though, in my own way. Some may consider it a fault to fight a battle that cannot be won.
I, however, regard such a futile struggle as heroic. I am reminded of an old saying. It states that when someone tells you that none can help them in their struggle, and that they wish to be left alone, what they want is either exactly as they said, or they wish to see if you will follow them into hell. Just as you cannot feel pain for another, you cannot carry their burden. All that we are left with is to catch them when they fall.