Sometimes I’m shocked at how painful it is when you talk about it.
I have no other frame of reference except my memory of where I was and what I was doing when I first heard. It rattled me to my core then, when it was still raw….and for some reason it still catches me now.
I’ve heard stories from others and though my heart bleeds for them, nothing compares to the sheer anguish I feel when I think of you and your pain.
I’ve never spoken about it to anyone but my closest friends, but today I can’t keep quiet. I didn’t expect to be fighting tears again. I still don’t want to say anything to you, because I don’t want you to think that I’m just being sympathetic and that I don’t understand.
You’d be right on one count though, I don’t understand. I have no idea of what you went through and continue to go through every single day. It didn’t happen to me, yet I feel like some part of me died too.
And that’s the difference….this isn’t just sympathy.
It’s pure, painful, heart-wrenching empathy.