It is not my story. It is hers.
My story is one of support, of worry, of nightmares not spoken aloud. At least two times a week, I wake up crying, my husband comforting me, and a picture in my head that won't leave.
The story is as old as time. Girl meets boy. Boy is sweet. Boy turns. The girl's family and friends are helpless, hopeless, and oh so scared.
She left him. But the story was not over. It is still not over. There is violence in the stories she still writes, threats she faces each day, and nostalgia for a man who never really was.
I have struggled. Time and again, I have struggled. I want to be her friend. I want to be the one she can count on. Sometimes I am impatient with her decisions, her actions, her feelings. I simultaneously want to validate her feelings and tell her to grow the fuck up. I simultaneously want to encourage her to be herself and be the person he never allowed her to be while she was with him and want to encourage her to act more like how I think I would act. This is my failing as a friend. I am sorry for the times I have been terse, impatient, or judgmental. It is not my place to sit and condemn because there's no way for me to know what I would do in her shoes.
But today she spoke words that made me think she's ready. She's ready to take the next step, the step I have been hoping for since the day she first left him; she's ready to at least acknowledge that she still has work to do in carving out a better life for herself, a life without fear and anxiety.
And even if it doesn't come to pass that she takes this step today or tomorrow or next month (but I hope she will), I am proud of her. I am proud of her for all she does in making it day to day, in dealing with the monster in her life, and not telling me to grow the fuck up when I should be told to do so.
She will break free.
She's lucky to have a friend like you who will stand by her and support her, even when you disagree with how she's handling it. She'll take the step when she's ready, and I know you'll be there for her then as well. You're a good friend.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post. And I completely understand what you're going through. That feeling of being on the outside, helpless, while someone you love is going through hell.
ReplyDeleteShe is so fortunate to have you in her life.
Lovely post, darling. You are a good friend!
ReplyDeletexoxox,
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I am amazingly fortunate to have you in my life. You are my rock, my inspiration, that annoying little conscience in the back of my head.
ReplyDeleteI felt that shift yesterday, too, though... when my anger continued through his apologies and tears... when I didn't run to comfort him. Perhaps I'm past the point of no return :)
Wow. I think we all have that friend at some point. Beautifully written. Sad and hopeful.
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