If that’s the way you feel right now, I’m sorry for not giving you what you need. I’m listening, but it’s hard for me to hear about your hurt and not want to comfort you. If this is not what you want or need right now, please stop reading, and come back to this comment later.

Some people want someone to hold them while they cry, either literally or figuratively. I am a strapping, amazon of a woman, and I have a rocking chair. You would fit nicely in my lap, and I would rock you like a baby . . . you could cry as long as you wanted. I don’t wear nice clothes generally, so you could snot allll over my shirt and I wouldn’t care.

I also have some cheap dishes I bought years ago for extreme self-therapy. I have been known to take them out into my courtyard and break them, in lieu of breaking someone’s fucking face. I’ve only had to do it three times in the last ten years. If I were there, I would set aside a whole box for you.

Then I would run you a bath. Lavendar and calendula. Lots of bubbles. A hot bath is a good place to cry. And while you did, I would sit by the side of the tub and wash your back, and squeeze spongefulls of water over your head. I wouldn’t say a word.

Then we would get you all dried off and into some ugly but comfy sweatpants, and into bed you would go. Some chamomile tea, with honey and lemon. Then you could take yourself a nap, or at least close your eyes. I would tell you a night-night story. It would go like this:

Your heart is beautiful. I pray you love.

Your mind is beautiful. I pray you release from torment.

Your soul is beautiful. I pray you peace.

Your love is sacred. I pray you will one day be filled to overflowing from the love you get back.

Your anger is righteous. I pray you healing.

Your grief is real. I pray you hope.

You are worthy. Of all the good things.

You are worthy.

You are worthy.

You are worthy, earth angel.

Hugs, and hopefully the next guy will treat you better.