I care too much about people. At times this is the most fulfilling trait I have; caring so much so that I go out of my way to take care of people whenever they need it, dropping whatever is in front of me to put him or her above all else, doing anything that I can to put a genuine smile on a face of hopeless despair. That slight smile, that momentary sigh of relief, that instance when they finally let their guard down and their stubbornness go so that they can finally let me in close enough to comfort them; all of that makes everything that I do for them worth it. Other times, however, this same trait is also the death of me. The lethal part of it all is when the people you care about don’t want to be helped, when you’re forced to watch someone you love drown in their own misery, fall deeper and deeper into a grave they have no way to claw out of. You see, making other people happy is all I need to be happy. I would rather them unload every single one of their burdens, heartache, sadness, and anger onto me than have to watch them suffer because I know in the end I will be okay regardless of what I endure. Most people don’t realize that though; they don’t realize that in the end everything will be okay, they will be okay.