The cool wind flows through her long curly hair. Her nose pink from the crisp Autumn air. The sound of children laughing and running around the playground. She sits there on a bench alone wonder how her life turned out the way it did. Oh, how life use to be so innocent. She was innocent. Everything changed so quickly, she didn’t know what to do or how to stop it. Her little dreams she once held dear to her, completely shattered.
They say reach out, but she reaches out and no one listens.
Her pain is so deep she doesn’t know a way out of it. She tries to hide it, to run from it, to mask it, but nothing works. It still lingers with her through every morning and every night.
They tell her, “just be positive. Think happy thoughts.” She’s tried that over and over again.
She’s ready to give up and hide away in her shell, but something stops her. The lady in the black chair. The only place where she feels safe, where she feels heard, and where she is held; but time quickly runs out and she’s on her own again. She laid her burdens down and just like that, she’s off questioning how she’s going to make it through.
And so she stops.
She stops trying to find a way out. She sits with it. “But how?” She allows herself to feel sad, to feel alone, and to feel broken. She wonders if anyone sees her, if anyone hears her cry, but then that wondering is quickly answered when no one listens. She screams until her lungs feel they are going to burst. She cries until her pillow is filled with stains; and her body aches from the pain she feels.
She whispers, “why doesn’t anyone want me? Why won’t anyone sit with me? What did I do? I am so alone.”
And so she stops. And this, this right here, the messy part no one wants to see.
And so, on her own, she turns off the lights, crawls into bed, and prays for strength. Strength to walk through the darkness and not away from it. Strength to help her see a glimmer of hope in the misted of her pain. Strength for her to get up tomorrow and face another day.
All my love,