Pain

I was wondering today, in a melancholic way, why is it so difficult to carry other peoples pain than our own? You see, we go through rough paches in our lives, and to carry my own pain, hurt, sickness is easier than those around me. I cannot stand seeing someone suffer and know that I am not able to do anything about it. It hurts more to see the one you love in pain than to feel the pain myslef. It's weird how we are made to be like this. Maybe this what my friend ment in his post ''when you can't be with the one you love..." . Not being able to be there for the one you love. In her deepest hurt, pain and suffering. At the same time this is what exactly love is. Loving her. Nothing elese, no pretentions, no alteriour motives, loving her for her sake. Maybe this kind of love brings light into dark places, it opens possibilities that were never there. It brings prayer to my mouth like a strange song I never sang or heard. So when you cant be with the one you love, pray for the one you love. I started with doubt and end in worship. Is this the way of pain my, hers, ours: from doubt to worship?