Gerrit sat on his bed and smiled.


Smiling still hurt - he thought that by smiling more he could reduce the amount of pain he had to bear for it, but there was no conditioning, no exercise that could accustom the Ogre's skin to the seemingly foreign movements. There was always scabs to break open, scars to rearrange, and bruises endure whenever he wanted to affirm life and hope.


He wondered if that pain was something he had to live with from now on. Sure, the pain he felt by missing his wife was still present, but it grew ever so faint with each passing week, but the aches in his muscles and bones seem to grow more present, if anything.


Did his keeper intend for him to suffer every joyous occasion, every heartfelt moment, every touching scene with one of his friends?


Was his escape that easy to simply torture him by proxy, by linking new friendships and meaningful hours to the dull ache of beaten flesh? To break the Lost even after he had found his way out of his Keeper's realm, to whittle him down by a thousand cuts even after he had endured hell?


The Ogre widened his smile, ignoring the breaking skin and running blood. He wanted to bear the pain of happiness, be it his own or that of his friends.


Bearing the pain of simply moving, Gerrit knew that he was destined to hurt for the rest of his life. The pain was going to be a constant, but dang it - he was going to make it worth it.


Smile.
Smile, for you can bear the world's baggage on your back.
Smile, for your smile can ease your friends' suffering.
Smile, even if everything inside of you screams for a moment of repose - the pain won't go away, but your smile will create waves and ease the pain of others.


There may always be some fresh skin to break, some new blood to draw. Gerrit will never unlearn how to smile.