I’m asking no questions so you’ll tell me no lies, half-truths or sanitized versions of what’s going on. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care. I do care. I care deeply.
I’ve learned, however, that you will come to me with your story when you’re ready and not a minute before.
I’ve learned that despite the fact that you leave cryptic phone and text messages that provide a trail of clues that disappear as thoroughly as the crumbs left by Hansel and Gretel, I won’t find out the whole story until you’re ready.
I’ve learned that if I dare ask a question, even an innocent one like “How Are You?” – you will feel barraged, probed, and certainly inconvenienced thereby giving you permission to act like I’m a Grand Inquisitor.
I’m learning not to second guess, attempt to fill in the blanks, or jump into action. To do so will mean that I am wrong, you are annoyed, and I will have jumped the gun, yet again.
Remember the story of the boy who cried wolf?
So, I swallow. I release. I burrow myself even deeper into my life’s demands all the while praying that you are okay and land on yoru feet like you have been every other time you’ve sounded the alarm.
Candelaria sounds like a very tricky situation that will take alot of patience on your behalf.
Hang in there my friend.
Hugs
Peggy xxxx
Oh yes am constantly walking that fine line and it is so hard. Butthat is what builds resilience, for both parties. They know you are a shelter in a storm and that is what counts. Love your writing, always thought provoking and spot on for where I am at in my own life.