Posted in Being Vulnerable


I don’t often think of this day.

The day our grandmother died.

I had just run a half marathon and was told at the finish line, she was gone.

At the time I didn’t know how to hold that information.

Do I cry? Do I scream? What do I do with this grief and shock?

So I compartmentalized it.

But when I went to your house that day to pick up my laptop, you knew how to hold that grief.

You were sitting on the couch crying.

And I was scared by your tears so I did nothing.

I didn’t know how to empathize with you.

I wasn’t practiced in that kind of social situation.

So I left.

Even when you asked me to stay, I left.

I was so uncomfortable with your display of emotion that I had to leave and to this day I regret that decision.

Because I let you bleed with your feelings on that couch that day and every day since then I have been bleeding with remorse.

You deserved a friend that day and I wasn’t it.

And I hope one day you can forgive me for that selfish act because it’s been 8 years since then and I still don’t forgive myself for it.


lover of the truth

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