The Empty Side
Last night while grabbing a quick bowl of noodles with a friend I hadn't seen in months, I began describing my strange health as of late. The dizziness, the slight (but unproductive) nausea, the lethargy. Her eyes lit up, in shock, disbelief, and to be honest straight-up fear, as she exclaimed/inquired, "Are you PREGNANT?!" Now it was my turn to be shocked and afraid, "NO! Oh, NO! I mean, I have my period RIGHT NOW. As we EAT. Uhh, yeah...so, no."
After we got that settled, she asked how everything else was...and then, 5 minutes later, after my random rambling was done, I returned the standard, "how are you?" Which was when the tears started welling in the corners of her eyes and I grasped my heart. (I tend to do this, as if I'm protecting it from lurching out from beneath my ventricles and tissue and breast.) She's not a crier. She's not unemotional, but she's a rational thinker. A very successful businesswoman. An achiever. And she just broke up with her boyfriend.
I wanted to hug her, but I resisted, knowing that would make it even worse. (You know how sometimes when you are on the verge of a serious breakdown, the gentle touch of another person who is attempting to comfort and console, manages instead to open the flood gates. You know? Or when you're super nauseous and the mere stroke of a friend's hand on your back sends you running for the bathroom. Kinda like that.) Anyway, instead I listened. And was there. And sometimes? Sometimes that's all you need.
That and for someone to make it all better. And to tell you that everything is going to be ok. To take away the pain. And the hurt. And the wonderings. And the loneliness. And the regrets. And the worry. And the emptiness. In your heart. And on the other side of the table.
After we got that settled, she asked how everything else was...and then, 5 minutes later, after my random rambling was done, I returned the standard, "how are you?" Which was when the tears started welling in the corners of her eyes and I grasped my heart. (I tend to do this, as if I'm protecting it from lurching out from beneath my ventricles and tissue and breast.) She's not a crier. She's not unemotional, but she's a rational thinker. A very successful businesswoman. An achiever. And she just broke up with her boyfriend.
I wanted to hug her, but I resisted, knowing that would make it even worse. (You know how sometimes when you are on the verge of a serious breakdown, the gentle touch of another person who is attempting to comfort and console, manages instead to open the flood gates. You know? Or when you're super nauseous and the mere stroke of a friend's hand on your back sends you running for the bathroom. Kinda like that.) Anyway, instead I listened. And was there. And sometimes? Sometimes that's all you need.
That and for someone to make it all better. And to tell you that everything is going to be ok. To take away the pain. And the hurt. And the wonderings. And the loneliness. And the regrets. And the worry. And the emptiness. In your heart. And on the other side of the table.
posted by Tilly at 10:14 AM
2 Comments:
Someone once told me that rubbing your back when you're nauseated will actually make you throw up. Of course, it wasn't hard to believe her because I had my head in the toilet at the time after personally drinking a shot of whiskey with everyone at the party.
Beautiful post.
Ahhh, whiskey.
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