I felt along with her - not the physical pain, of course, but all her mental anguish. You can't be detached. She needed to have someone who understood what was happening in her mind.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
What kind of man would I have been if I had not been there to help her? I felt along with her - not the physical pain, of course, but all her mental anguish. You can't be detached.
I think pain is a very - it's an extremely hard thing to empathize moment to moment. And you often don't remember your own pain, you know, that moment that you broke a limb or you burned yourself or, I think, this is a common thing that women talk about with childbirth, that the memory of the pain is hard to summon up and relive, thankfully.
I could be pretty volatile, especially when I didn't feel understood, which was 99 percent of the time. I do think that, as a young person, I suffered over that. But as I look back, it doesn't even feel like part of me - except when I act and need those emotions. Then I can dredge it up.
You can relate to somebody's pain and you have compassion, which can lead to intimacy.
A pain stabbed my heart as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world.
Some pain is simply the normal grief of human existence. That is pain that I try to make room for. I honor my grief.
I had a woman breakdown and cry when she met me which was difficult to deal with because immediately when someone starts to cry, you want to comfort them, you know, 'Poor thing.' I comforted her. I tried to make her feel better.
As a child I was not allowed to express my feelings, so I had to go back through therapy and express the child's pain.
I wouldn't tell Jill how I felt. I behaved in such a way that was opposite to how I felt. I must have seemed strong to her. I didn't want to bring her down.
I had to go on without my mother, even though I was suffering terribly, grieving her.