TO HEAL// TO LOVE

 

TO HEAL// TO LOVE

I see her, hair chopped like shredded glass, panic stripped back on a numb face. I see her bomber jacket puffing out in the wind, see the gashes on her skin like tic-tac-toe hashes. I see her about to jump from the building, from the sky, about to take her own life.

At that moment, all I want is to be there for her. For her, for you, for anyone who has ever been pushed to that height. All I want is to hold them, wrap my arms around them tight, and I would tell them ‘it’s okay; everything is okay’ tell her with every last ounce of desperation and determination that I can muster. Tell her with a finality like nothing else. Nothing matters at that moment as her life hanging there by the sill.

I wouldn’t ask her why – why she did that, or what pushed her so far. I wouldn’t judge her for not being able to cope, for succumbing, for perceiving her life the way she was. I wouldn’t judge her for her background; ignore the fact that I’ve been told to avoid such people.

I’ll blanket her with my body and tell her that it didn’t matter and that I loved her – loved her no matter what, love her despite it all. I will tell her it is good that nothing matters anymore because then, we can start afresh on a blank canvas. I will tell her that we can build Hiroshima from bare ashes. And that she is not alone, that we could do it together.

Because at that moment, all that matters is that she is human, we’re human – her dark eye shadow and hair and gashes and all. All that matters is this inescapable urgency to love, to hold, to heal.

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(Image courtesy: Pinterest)

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