muted words of comfort

to be honest, i don’t know what to say. i could tell her i know how she feels but that wouldn’t help at all. i don’t know exactly how she feels.

but i’ve been there before. two agonizing years of internal pain and suffering and God knows what. everyday was virtually an emotional suicide waiting to happen again and again. every fucking day. it was like having someone stab you over and over again but leaves you with just enough life to manage to breathe and to survive; leaving you with nothing but deep scars to remind you of that hell you’ve been through. and just when the scars start to heal, he slivers them again. a nice clean cut which leaves you bleeding even more. but somehow, again, you manage to survive. as always. and you wonder how you could still function when you feel so dead.

yes, i’ve been there before. we’ve all been there before. and it’s not easy. life is lived on a moment to moment basis. just struggling to pick ourselves up and glue pieces of our souls back together. it’s hard. really hard.

so i guess it’s okay if i don’t know what to say. all i want is to be there like they’ve been there for me before. in a minute way, it helps. a palliative effort which does not guarantee instant healing. hell, it doesn’t guarantee anything at all. just the thought, perhaps, that she’s not alone. that she’s in my prayers. that i got her back, as promised.

bounce.

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2 thoughts on “muted words of comfort

    • i guess it’s a pretty generic post. that post could be for anybody. it could even be for me.

      i wonder for whom that post was written for. 2008 was so long ago. if it wasn’t for you then it was probably for another one of our schizo friends. or maybe, just maybe, it was written for my other heartbroken self. hehe.

      i’m glad the words bring you comfort. =)

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