I know someone who always feels like ending her life. I told her that I admired the way she lived, which is a ridiculous thing to say. Why would anyone admire someone who is always at baseline suicidal? I tried to unpack what I meant by it and this is what came out:

You, who bears this unrelenting weight of depression,
wake every morning and ask, "Why not today
finally Rest?" 

I know for you
life drags on
despite your protestations,

but I believe that you
more than anyone else has
this remarkable opportunity
, or maybe undesired obligation,
to choose life
every
moment.

See, for you, life
is not a given, 
like the certainty of sunrise.

Every morning, you must choose,
stay or go? 
Every morning, you ask yourself, why stay?
How do I make
today
at least bearable
and possibly worthwhile? 

Then,
to see you be kind and generous and loving,
I am left concluding,
that love alone fulfills life's purpose. 

And, I am reminded that for me love is the source from
which all worthwhile things must spring
(I worry so much about how much hate drives our politics these days)

Then, I feel
reaffirmed, revitalized,
and grateful, for you, who bears this weight, 
reminding me to love and
act in all ways from love.