There is a line in movie kabir singh , suffering is very personal thing nobody should try to remove it , it should heal itself that line made me to think i also love to suffer

I have often wondered why I return to my pain so willingly, why I sit with it like an old companion and refuse to chase it away. There are moments when life offers peace, yet I turn away from it as if comfort is something I no longer trust. I have come to realize something quietly unsettling: I love suffering. Not because it feels good, but because it feels true.

Suffering, to me, is the only state where I feel undeniably alive. When I am in pain, nothing is vague. Every thought is sharp, every heartbeat deliberate. Pleasure is soft, fleeting, easily forgotten. But pain pain carves its name deep into memory. It leaves marks that remind me I have lived, that I have felt. When I suffer, I am not sleepwalking through life; I am standing in it, completely awake.

There is also a strange dignity in it. Suffering exposes me to myself. It strips away the decorations ego, pride, illusion and shows what remains when all masks fall. In joy, I pretend to be strong; in suffering, I am forced to be honest. It is there that I see who I truly am not what the world thinks, not what I pretend to be, but the trembling core that still hopes, still loves, still fears.

Suffering gives me meaning. When everything becomes mechanical days merging into one another, achievements turning hollow pain shakes me like thunder. It whispers, “Wake up, you’re still human.” Through suffering, I find purpose; through loss, I rediscover depth. It’s as if the soul, neglected in comfort, reclaims its voice only when wounded.

And perhaps, in some hidden corner of my heart, I believe suffering purifies me. Each scar feels like a lesson carved by the divine. Every heartbreak humbles me, every disappointment softens my arrogance. I emerge from it quieter, deeper, more real. There’s an odd gratitude I feel toward pain it breaks me only to rebuild me cleaner.

I do not romanticize it. I don’t chase suffering for its own sake. But when it arrives, I no longer resist it. Because in that burning, I find truth. In that loneliness, I find God. In that silence after tears, I find strength.

Maybe that’s why I love suffering because it makes me see. It reminds me that love, faith, and meaning are not luxuries of the happy, but the treasures of the broken.

So I do not fear pain anymore.
I welcome it like rain after drought painful, cold, but cleansing.
Because through every wound I’ve endured,
I’ve met the one person I had long forgotten
myself.