i don’t know what it was about her voice, or her seriousness, or her manner of mocking a bunch of college student’s joke ( which the speaker yesterday had enjoyed) that struck a chord.
it was really quite amazing to hear from her, to be brought back into time with her, to feel every single word as she reiterated her whole story again.
i thought i could hold it together when i thanked her. but somehow, my words stuttered. those words came out of my mouth like confessions of sins, of crimes, of things so hideous that i never wanted to tell anyone else. but i said it. i was fine until someone came over. i was fine by myself but i coughed up when someone came over.
i cried. i cried like a pig, the last time i felt this sympathetic was when i watched ET. it was the first time i cried in years. i never cried after the incident, not in the hospital bed, not during the recovery process, not during the separations. everything that had been built up in my system: all the sadness, all the pain just exploded and came out as tears.
we were similar in that something was robbed of us, taken without our consent and forever changing our lives.
i’ve never met a more courageous person in my life. i’ve never met a stronger person in my life. she is the worst i could become. if she was standing there telling her story to thousands of people, i could accomplish the tiny task of facing life. to quote the fountain head, “[she] did not know she had just given me the strength to face her whole life ahead of her.”
i guess i now understood why i choose specific types. because they were strong and it was their strength that i relied on in my own weakness.