I've been thinking the last few days about this post that I wrote last May on the idea of falling down. Most specifically, I was thinking of the part at the end. The image that lies in my mind is one of a city, ravaged by war. The last bomb has fallen, the city walls have come crashing down, and you are the lone survivor. You stand up, and you look around, gutted at the wreckage around you. How could something so grand have come to such a bitter and complete end? It is simplistic to blame it all in one direction. Conflict is born of two, not of one. But, you have to accept your part in it.
But, they wait for you.
They sit outside the hovel of rocks you made for yourself and they say "I get it. It sucks out here, and I'm scared, too. But I can wait until you're ready." And they do.
They wait and they wait with mindboggling patience, and you think "Don't they have to get up to pee or something?" But no, bladder of steel, and still they wait. Until you are able to relax your guard, until you are able to trust, until you are able to accept the friendship and love that is so freely given. It is then that you realize how blessed and lucky and terribly undeserving you are. And you are very very grateful.
Thanks for waiting, Stacey.