Crutch

People come in all sorts of different shapes and sizes and textures and layerings. Some come box-shaped from trying to fit themselves into one, some big, capable of filling up an entire room, some are soft and fuzzy, others slippery, some wear their hearts on their sleeves and still others  layered like the earth: few get past the thin rocky crust to the mantle, and virtually no one can get to the solid core that drives everything above it.

And for whatever reason they like to come to me.

They come to me one after another with their family problems, relationship problems, their teenage angst. I like this guy, he’s so cute. I want to break up with him but don’t know how. My parents are fighting and it’s so complicated. All of them boats a little bit broken trying to keep afloat in a tough bend of the river of life.

I tell them it’s going to be okay and it’ll get better, because it really will. I offer what little advice I can give. I try to help them patch up their brokenness, all the while telling them that it’s okay to be a little bit damaged, we all are.

Sometimes it’s not a straight path out. Sometimes I’m powerless to stop them from walking right into a hellhole. I’ve seen the making of bad or just plain abusive relationships, the deepening of family resentments. A multiplication of problems of sorts, but I know I’ll be there to catch them for those as well.

But as a testament to the strength of the human spirit, eventually they all seem to make it through. Past the vale of tears, past the bend in the river. They exclaim how I was right, they give me a hug, and they continue. Most times we lose contact and I don’t hear from them in a long time.

But I don’t know how to get out of here. The people don’t stop coming, and I need to help them. Who else would? I fiercely believe in the lightness of humans but I mostly meet them in darkness. So am I a cynic or a dreamer? Who knows?

Who cares?

For now I’m still stuck in the darkness, telling people they’ll make it out while wishing for someone to tell me the same. Or rather, I wish I could believe it myself. I wouldn’t hope this on anyone else.

——

The above piece is dedicated to a dear friend. You can visit/follow him here.

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One thought on “Crutch

  1. Hi!

    You really shouldn’t feel bad about leaning on someone else, wishing someone else could be your crutch.

    I mean yeah, you evidently know well that a crutch isn’t the easiest thing to be. But you don’t need to be super selfless or all that. So sure, it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to wish your situation on anyone else. But even so, it’s okay if you want someone to support you– there are a lot of us out here who could theoretically help but who don’t really have anyone coming to us. 🙂

    On a related note, in case you feel bad that you’re getting tired of everyone coming to you, don’t– anyone would have a hard time, and you know it. You’re an awesome person for helping others like this, and even if you get tired of it, or you want to stop, or you do stop, that’s okay– it doesn’t make you any less awesome, because turns out all of us are only human, and nobody can be expected to bear the weight of everyone we know on our shoulders. Especially when we get tired for other reasons.

    So don’t worry. I know you’ll get through this, because that’s what always happens. And if you need support, ask; if you need to talk, talk. Seriously. But either way, it’ll be okay. Smile! 🙂

    All the best,
    werryju

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