Friday brought back horrible memories and I stupidly thought the only person who could help would be the one that was with me back then when it all happened, that he could relate. But I realized all he has ever wanted was to ease his conscience. He’s not really there for me, he’s never been. He’s still the same selfish and dishonest man who has no clue how to comfort me.
And then, here he comes. From miles and miles away, he calls me in the middle of the night and he doesn’t need more than 5 minutes to find the exact words I need to hear. He doesn’t understand, he can’t relate, but he knows me, he pays attention, he listens, he tries, he gives. He may be talking to me from a prison somewhere in the US and yet I feel him with me and I find peace, at last.