What Love Is

I'm sitting in my office, it's not even 10 am, and reading that made me want to cry again. Only this time, it's not about me- it's the kind of sadness that has nothing to do with feeling sorry for myself and everything to do with knowing that others are in pain. I guess this must be what love is.

And I'm guessing (knowing) this is what it is for you, too- love.

And I am so sorry that you are so helpless- because I kind of more than sort of know what that feels like. I really know what that feels like. I'm feeling a little of that now, and I felt a lot of it a couple years ago: coming home in the middle of the night and having everything crash, going to the hospitals, wandering Target because I didn't know where else to go to get away. It hurts.

And it wouldn't hurt quite so bad if it weren't for, well, love. Which, I'm thinking, is kind of both the cure and the disease- and what do you do about that?

We're worried. I can tell you this much- I have never really had to see my family hurting, other than deaths, which obviously cannot be helped. But, I guess neither can this. And all we can really do is fall asleep praying.

Tonight is laundry night, so I'll be around- let's talk and pretend we're not so far away.

xoxoxoxoBon