Those of us who shoulder the burden of suffering shall never know what we desire. Those who are freed from suffering shall never attain their goals. While the former can be called elite, the life they experience is anything but. And while the latter may be called simple, they will always be lost on a path to nothingness. In this way, the scales remain balanced, and time continues to flow.

He was sitting in a tree, staring up at the night sky. She edged closer so she could just make out his eyes. Upon them rested an expression that was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The cold calculating gaze finally dropped, and she could see the immense pain of his fatigued mind. A longing for peace that would probably never come. The fear of what a single mistake might cost. And most of all, a prayer, a silent wish that one day, the dreams he filled the night sky with might finally come true.

She had never realized just how much suffering he went through. Tears formed in her eyes as she gazed, and she reached up to brush them away. her hand made a noise, and when she looked back, those eyes she glimpsed a moment ago had vanished, replaced with that piercing stare again, trained on her, and awaiting an explanation.

The problem with being kind - you can’t expect people to be kind back. Nine times out of ten, no one else will be. But you can’t let that hold you back. You cannot let the cynicism take over you. If you do, you inevitably admit that being kind is never the right thing to do. And if you admit that… you have ultimately convinced yourself that the world is dead.

Now that she had the chance, she couldn’t think of anything important to ask him. Not wanting to show her hesitation, she asked the first thing that came to mind: “Why do you like this spot so much?”

He looked at her curiously, but answered with a softer tone. “When I get up each morning,” he said, looking back out over the sea, “the day’s events are already laid out for me. I go through the day, and then go to sleep and wait for the next day. Everything I do has a reason, and I rarely take time for myself. And honestly, I don’t feel like I need it. But… this lifestyle… I really feel like I’m losing touch with everything.” Silence for a moment. The waves crashed against the cliffside. “I believe that sometime in the future, I’ll lose myself in this world. I won’t have anything to hold on to, any place left for emotions or dreams. These things are becoming less real to me each passing day.”

“This place is how I know I’m not there yet. I look out across the ocean, I feel the breeze roll past my face. The scent, the night sky, everything settled in serenity. I cry. I laugh. I scream. And I know in my heart, I’m still here. Because I can still see the true beauty of this place all around me.”

“The real reason I love this place? It’s because this place reminds me. It let’s me know I’m still alive.”

His friend’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “What do you make of this graveyard? Truly the epitome of human emotion in creation.”

He shrugged, unaffected. “I have no respect for the dead.” A pause due to the shock he felt next to him. “It isn’t that I don’t value their lives, nor is it that I think they deserved to die. I’m sure their lives were just as precious as the next person’s, and that their time alive was well-spent. But when you don’t view life to be precious; rather, you don’t view it as something worthwhile, then what do the dead mean to you? Nothing, save something else that can be constantly held over your head. As it is with me, my life is cursed. I hold nothing in it that makes me desire the pursuit of life, and yet… No. I do not respect them… but perhaps… I envy them.” For a few moments, all that could be heard was the light breeze drifting across tombstones, settling the night in calm.

Why. A content breeze rolled past through his hair, the cool air embracing all that surrounded him. The word settled peacefully in his mind, as if it were just another part of the complex person he had become. Why must he think on such a greater level than those he had to protect. Why was he chosen to be the above them, why did destiny pick him for this job. Out of all other possibilities, why on earth did everything fall into place like this.
The breeze rolled by again, like a peaceful requiem to his thoughts. It would be time soon. It was his job to make sure everything went according to plan. If it did not, more than just a few lives would be lost. For a brief moment, the question in his mind brought a pang of fear: what if I can’t…? Then, in a swift motion he spun around, picked up his blade, and marched back toward camp, the breeze guiding his ever-forward path.

“I sigh to myself, or was it a laugh in irony? I look around at everyone sitting around me, all smiling and enjoying the inner peace they have found to rest in. They view me as some kind of messiah, some savior who can magically solve their problems… but what happens when I can’t? I’m not some amazing or extraordinary person. What they don’t see is that I’m just as troubled as the rest of them when push comes to shove. I still have my secrets and worries that keep me up at night. I’m no different from them, in fact, I’m more human then they are. Yet they all look up to me. Respect. Envy. Awe. They think of me as the answer to their prayers… and I fear what will happen when I can no longer answer them.”