Because I’ve been there. To hell and back. Because I have more than an inkling of what lies ahead. I know you don’t care about the future right now. You’re still in that one breath, one step, one day at a time phase. That’s OK. I’ll be here when you’re open to hope and possibility again. No rush.
I can hold your hand, hold you in my arms, hold your heart as it breaks again and again and again. No worries if it falls and shatters onto the ground. I will help pick up the pieces, reassemble them with you, place your re-constituted heart on a soft cushioned pillow in a pretty box, tie it with a bow, and place it back in your chest to keep on beating – even if you couldn’t care less. For now, I will care for you.
I will be there after the dust settles. It will. Just be prepared because that is when the shit will really hit the fan. You will no longer have anything on your To-Do list to distract you, and you’ll ask, “What’s the fucking point of my life again?” I will remind you.
I will remind you that life is for the living.
I will remind you how life is a creative choice. You are the artist who gets to paint your future. I will applaud as you pick up the brush. I will cheer even if there is but one stroke of color on the canvas. It will be the first step toward a new beginning, when everything feels like the end. I will stand before this evidence of a future and say, “See? I knew you had it in you.”
You will nod, not totally convinced, but at least willing to show up. Our eyes will meet. I will see my painful past in yours. I will give thanks that is not me any longer. You will see a hint of your future in mine. You will feel a pinprick of hope.
I will remember a time, when my world stopped, and everything that had mattered before, no longer existed or was forever changed.
More than anything, I will be your witness. Whatever shows up. I will not turn away. Because I will recognize my once broken self in you. I have learned to love and make peace with that version of me. Take my hand; I’ll walk you through it.