I spoke to a friend tonight, one whom I haven't talked to in a very long time. But we were friends when we were young and absolutely fearless.
And my heart is breaking for her.
I can't write what happened.
What do you do when something happens to break you so thoroughly that you feel you can't even move, can't even breathe? That you don't even recognize yourself anymore?
She doesn't know how to put the pieces back together.
When I was living in Beijing, I was home one night, watching TV. I can't remember the name of the show...
One of the characters was a woman whose husband had left her. She was raging with anger and grief, and wondering why, with her heart broken, she was still alive. Don't you need a whole, functioning heart to live? And despite the betrayal and hate, she still wanted him. But not with her heart, which was broken. Not even with her mind, because she knew that there was no going back. She still wanted him with her legs, her arms, her breasts, her hips, her groin, her hands, her lips. As if her body parts were mindless animals which only knew need and desire and were completely outside her control.
And the worst part of it is, that only describes one part of what my friend is feeling. The other part is... worse.
She needed me to talk about certain things. She needed me to remember and to be back in that place, with her, now.
And so I did.
We all think we are strong. But we never really know, not unless we're tested.
I'm think I'm failing this test. Because while I did what she needed, I desperately wish that I had never answered my phone.