Through all I have learned this week about her situation, all I can do is just sit here and do nothing. Do nothing except think about her all of the time. She is hurting, and I want to comfort her. But I know at this initial, raw state of hers, there is little comfort to be given and received. She is trying to seek clarity, trying to answer questions that can't be answered, or the answers are just too hard to face. Stein and I have been asking some of the same questions, I'm sure. We're frustrated that they can't be answered and we just want things to be good for her once again. I'm sure my friend feels the same way, only more deeply.
Growing up sucks sometimes. We all have our crosses to bear, as my Catholic upbringing has told me. But sometimes it seems like a tsunami occurs in people's lives. Events that completely wash over them and make it impossible to come up for breath for a long time. In my friend's situation, I feel like I'm watching her being swept away by the tsunami, and I can't help her get to safety. As humans we all have the genetics that make us want to "right" ourselves again, to find a balance, to be safe. We want that for others, especially our friends.
I know in my heart that she will be alright one day. When that is, no one knows. But from where she has come from and the journey she has taken through life and the attitude she has, it will happen. In life's unknowns, I do know she will be alright. I am grasping to this hope, and I want her to know that. As faint as it is right now, there is hope that you will be alright. I know you will.