Dark Eyes

Brown eyes are my favorite.  The darker the better.  I have been attracted to many a person with bright eyes, but having dark eyes gives you an instant attractiveness boost in my book.
That, however, is not the subject of this post.

The center of everyone's eyes is that same unrelenting black.  Thus the minds that overflow with happiness are colored no differently than the ravaged slums of depression when considering the "windows to the soul."  Conversely, everything seems different when looked at behind different eyes.  This is where argumentation fails: it is nearly if not entirely impossible to make assumptions you don't have.  The political climate is drenched with hordes of individuals who all agree what is obviously, precisely, and impeccably clear.  While the event itself is certain and it's implications "obvious", these parties don't agree on what these implications are.  Unable to accept that the data says that the results aren't as clear as currently seen, the only other plausible situations are that the other side is completely stupid, belligerently evil, or both.  Not the best climate for effective mediation.
The same thing happens in dealing with pain.  People don't understand each other.  I'm grateful for a friend I ran into recently.  I told him some of the things I struggle with, and he simply said, "I don't understand what that's like, but I'm sorry you have to deal with it."  I didn't need him to understand, and in fact assuming that you can often backfires.  Because when you take pieces of their situation and relate them to yours, you naturally will correlate your further experiences and methods of resolving the problem to what they should do.  And as you suggest the counsel they know or suspect will fail (because certain things in their actual situation prevent the outcome you ascertained from yours), they withdraw.  Pain is enough on it's own.  Watching others try and fail to help hurts more.

I'd venture to say I see things differently than others sometimes.  And while it is not fair to them to assume that they will attempt to understand and end up failing, I have a habit of withdrawing.  I cannot see the light they bask in.  They cannot see the dark turmoil I writhe in.  In their light, they often wish to somehow thrust it upon me.  Yet I have no desire to infect them with my injury.  So while they are counseled to talk, to give, to share, and to make friends, I counsel myself to hold my tongue, to withdraw, to avoid, and to build a wall of smiles: reflecting light shone on it, but icy to the touch.

To those, I apologize.  I do wish I did see it your way.  That I could commune with you, and together we could chip away at our flaws.  That as we listen and discuss counsel given, that we would find our burdens lifted and our resolve strengthened.  That our hearts would be knit as our minds think on those we can assist.
But that it not what my tired dark eyes see.