The Humanity Series Pt. 2

I have finally come to the years-in-the-making understanding

that some of us are meant for nothing more

than to be the wind 'neath the worlds' wings.

This world thrust me into a life of taking care of others,

made me choose a continuation of this life

because by the time 18 fleeting years had passed me by

and it was time to choose, it was all I knew how to do.

I knew my place in other peoples' lives before I knew my own.

I knew how to stitch another's wound while taking on my own,

and taking their burdens onto my own back.

There comes a point of no return.

A point in which people expect it of you,

and with good reason.

You've always been there,

just a constant, comforting silence

in a world of compounded noise that quakes you to the very bone

but I know no noise.

I know no noise 'cept for the beating of my own heart

in the compounded silence between my bedroom walls

as I hold myself together.

The therapy friend does all of the hard work for free.

Scheduled sessions where they have time to prepare

to face your traumas and help you find the light

are exchanged for out-of-the-blue midnight phone calls

and 3 AM text messages because you couldn't sleep.

Answered in haste with a sweetened "what's going on",

because if people don't have people then we have nothing.

Therapy friends don't have people but they have it all.

People who love them because they're so kind and reliable.

People who know that they will always put a smile on their faces,

tell them that the voices in their heads are lying.

People who love them until it's them sending the text message,

at noon while they don't hope for much

because they know you might be working,

again at 5 because they know you get out at 4:30 on Thursdays

and work is only a 15 minute drive,

but they have to let you get in the door and set your bag down

and grab a snack.

One more time at 8, staring at the screen in anticipation,

waiting for the text bubble to come back,

because they know you're going to bed soon

but they can't sleep.

Staring at the screen until 10 because

"maybe they were just watching a movie,

and didn't see the message yet."

Staring at the screen filled with familiar internet searches

of "depression poetry", "quotes about loneliness",

"sad quotes" while listening to equally sad songs,

because for just a moment,

it feels like someone is finally understanding.

Staring at the screen, until the sun comes up

and shines against the tears on their cheek.

Good morning!

It's nice to see you again.

How would you like to start today's session?