You’re stuck with me.
When I lost my friend Chris to alcoholism and depression six years ago, there were things left lying about that I never said. Today, I found out the reason the words were left unsaid in 2010 was because they belonged to you. Your struggle has offered me the opportunity to fight a fight I wasn’t ready to undertake six years ago.
There is a reason we came into each other’s lives. There is a reason you are here. I cannot begin to tell you how beautiful you are. I admire you as a fellow mom, as a recovering perfectionist, and as a human. You inspire me to lift myself to a higher place.
I said things to you earlier this evening that made parts inside of me fracture open. It physically hurt. But, knowing that naked honesty and vulnerability have the potential to save your life, I said them. You gave me the courage to say them by being you. You were such a good listener, and I know that the words I said that hurt me so badly had to have caused you even more pain.
I’m learning, though, that it’s hard to recognize that we need to heal if we don’t really feel our wounds. Pain is necessary sometimes. It doesn’t work if you break a phantom limb.
Save your life. Do it for you first. Do it for the kiddo we saw jump-roping today. Embrace whatever help comes your way.
I know I can’t save you. I know you know that. It’s not my job. However, I’m counting on you being my dear friend for the rest of my life, and I intend to live a long fucking time.
Get better. Be better. Know that you’re perfect at this very second. If I was there, I’d hug you until we made it awkward.
I’m not going anywhere. I am so grateful for you. I love you.