You, reading this, and feeling that you are alone, that no one is there, or can possibly understand what you are going through because being raw with vulnerability, you wonder what worth your life has. Thank you for staying.
You don’t know this, but you posted a status the other day–on Facebook–that lifted my spirits and turned around my day. I liked it, but didn’t tell you how much it mattered to me because while I’m a huge mush most of the time, I’m shy, too.
Last week you tweeted a picture of a quote I found inspiring. Now, I only retweet or favorite those, every once in a great while. That’s on principle. I can be silly that way. I didn’t let you know.
I haven’t told you how much I like seeing your endless selfies, vacation shots, pictures of things you find interesting, and pics of kids I have never met, or don’t really know. Often your smiles, and theirs help me wear one on my face. I love smiling. Thank you for those gifts.
When you invite me to things, I’m grateful for being thought of, even if the event is hundreds of miles away. How could I possibly attend? You know that, and asked anyway. Thank you. The invites across town? They mean a lot too. Even I don’t go. Keep including me the way you do. It helps me remember I’m not alone.
Like a lot of people, I’m stubbornly set in my ways. I don’t think I am of course (who does). You help me break free, and think differently about things I think I know. You’ve introduced me to things I wouldn’t otherwise know anything about. My sense of life is bigger as a result. All I can say is, “Wow!”
When I’m too serious, you help me remember there is a lighter side, and way of seeing almost everything. I often forget it’s there, waiting to be discovered. I have let out the most wonderful belly laughs as a result. Thank you for them, also.
You teach me a lot. I bet you don’t know that. About what it means to love, to have courage, to persevere, and find a way through. You help me get perspective when I’m struggling. You’re wonderful that way. You really are.
When you ran into me at the grocery store you asked me my favorite question: “How are you?” For a lot of people the question is a throwaway, something you say. It matters to me. You remembered that and gave me your attention as you asked. You gave me your presence, too. There’s no greater gift.
All these little things you do, all of them, they help make my days–which are sometimes very hard–brighter, and easier to get through. These are just a few examples of the way you make a difference in my life. Thank you for staying. I know there are moments when choosing to stay takes all the courage you have. If it sounds like I’m being a little selfish here, I am. Last night I learned what it’s like to have a Mork-shaped hole in my heart. I don’t like this feeling. It hurts. And well, this is something else on my list of things we’ve been through together. You’ve held me through so much. Ha! What a wonderful auto-correct typo! I meant, you’ve helped me through so much. Really, what you’ve done is hold me. I hope I get the chance sometime to hold you, too. Please stay.