On being witnessed and the gift of a friend.

I had some quality time with a good friend today. 

I told her a very difficult story of my history,

Down to the details like what it smelled like to be there

and that blood was sticky on my hands. 

It took me some time. 

I've never tackled this story from beginning to end

Like I did tonight. 

I sort of jumped in and kept gulping for the next

breath to keep telling. 

It felt horrid. 

And I cried so deeply that I wasn't sure I'd be able to 

stop. 

My friend stayed with me. 

She witnessed me. 

She heard the story. 

And when I had no more story to tell, 

she covered me with the softest blanket I'd ever felt.

I must have fallin quite immediately to sleep

because I woke several hours later

with a massive migraine

and my eyes swollen shut.

I really do have the best friends. 

I mean, who opens their home to me,

Sits with me for hours on and

while i tell a piece of my history that I know

rips her heart to shreds as I speak it?

I am truly gifted by such people in my life.

Rarely have I felt so loved or so safe. 

Thank you, Life, for bringing such

radiant souls to me.

Thank you, to my dear friend,

for taking the time

and the courage

to witness me.

I am blessed.

And this friend is a precious gift.

hbk