There is a girl who lives down the street and even though I have no reason to to love her, I do. I can’t help loving her, even though I’ve no reason to love her. And it’s the kind of love where you want to run and lift them up and spin around with them: I’ve done that before.
(Right now, my mom is loudly FaceTiming her relatives and it’s hard to write a sentimental and meaningful post. Alas, distractions. Do not let distractions stop you from saying what you want to say.)
The only reason I’m writing this right now is that I couldn’t stop thinking about this. I know I have to write it, and that’s the only way to stop thinking about this.
One thing is I’ve always wanted to be strong, and I’ve always wanted to be strong because when I was young, I’d want to dance with my younger sister. Dancing was beautiful. She never consented to be the boy, and so I was, and how beautiful is a dance if the girl doesn’t get lifted up? So I would be the boy so I could lift her up, and to lift someone up, you have to be strong. If no one is ever lifted up, nothing is as beautiful as it could be.
And that’s what I was thinking. Strength requires hard work and devotion. Using strength to lift others up is the best way you can use it, and physical strength isn’t the only way to lift people up.
Do you love something? Art, writing, photography, computer coding, cooking, math? Work hard on it. Become strong at it.
And that is why strength is important: because when you are strong, in whatever it is you wish to be strong in, you can lift others up.