I want to help you so much. But I don’t know how when there’s two of you. One is laughing and pleasant when around, the other stays away and quietly blogs about her pain and fears and anger. Vulnerability is a difficult concept; both of us are feeling it. I think you try to construe our reactions, our words, our thoughts, and you get them all wrong. I think you assume what we’re going to assume and that’s wrong, too. I don’t think you understand just how much love is dying , burning to be spent on you here. It’s endless. Limitless. Unconditional. I want to help that sunniness stay with you and glow and help you and make your life feel better than it ever has. You deserve all the sun there is. True, there are times that I want you around because the teams are uneven and I’m losing; but I want you here for you all the more. You come around and I feel that things went great and that I’m helping and you’re coming closer and loving more. But then, the next day I read your post to find hurt and emptiness and confusion. Still. As entirely understandable as it is – and I do understand – it’s hard. I can tell that you want to hide your real feelings on a web page. From holding and crying and talking until 3am to trips to the ER to shopping sprees to lunch to church to playing Wii, I just want you here. I don’t know how to tell you that more. I feel that I’m pouring myself towards you, reaching for you, waiting for you, wanting you, and you play along until your fingers touch the keys.
Updated: Things will be okay.