When Bad Things Come for a Friend

Caring feels like I’m the driver and you’re in the passenger seat
and there’s a Bad Thing coming so I put my arm out across you
to shield you, to throw it off, to say not on my watch will this happen

But it’s only an arm and there’s a crushing weight about to come
through the windshield and I know that, I know it’s just an arm,
but I fight back harder anyway and I scream at the Bad Thing,

And I tell you not to worry, that I will help, that I will shoulder this
for you, and for us, and that I’m in this as long as it takes
and I mean it, I really mean it, but I also wonder…

How much is too much?
How long can I do it?
And, in the process, what else will I foresake?