The unfortunate scene that we behold seems to be muted. Silence fills the room like a heavy smoke that is choking her; threatening the girl from breathing the contaminated air. Her body collapses into a fit a tremors on the bed. Her face contorts into one of despair. Her shoulders keep shaking as she lays there, holding her face in her hands. Finally we hear her breath. That awful gasping noise where you can hear the saliva caught in her throat and the snot in her nose. She snorts, gasps, and begins to wail. We begin to wish the scene had stayed muted.
Pain is an interesting thing. It goes far beyond the physical aspect of its nature. Emotional pain, while it seems so metaphorical, is quite literally the same type of hurt, in my opinion. The scene described above is about me; a scene that I have seen myself collapse into on more than one occasion, and I'm sure I will continue to experience such despair as time goes on.
There is something so intense about emotional pain. Something so, raw, and different. Physical pain can be measured and the injury can be understood by observing the body, the blood flow of the wound. But emotional pain, that's something quite different. It cannot be measured, and it cannot be understood by anyone except maybe the person experiencing it. And yet, emotional pain can feel just as present as a stab wound in your leg.
The aching, the stabbing pain in my stomach and chest, and the tightness of my throat. Sometimes I literally cannot breath. Or, I think I can't. Isn't it interesting?