true pain

She has a hollow look about her…. an American Beauty drowning emptiness – her soul has been amputated – she has no purpose- she can't find her way – lost on a highway of grief. An amazing woman, a kind soul, a beautiful spirit that cannot be freed as it has been jailed by true pain. She's my friend and I love her, how can I help her? What do I do? Listening doesn't seem to be enough, it's not enough for me, is this because no matter how much I listen, she is still drowning in her emptiness? She calls me a true angel of mercy? I'm not. I am a compassionate friend. That's it.. nothing more, nothing less. I love her, she amazes me.. such kindness, such beauty, such talent all buried beneath true pain. My heart hurts for her every waking moment. I wish I could open her chest to rub her heart to put her pieces back together again. I can't .. it's impossible – she will be forever broken…. It is painful, it is sad; it makes me ache from the inside out.

He was 16. Her life, her reason for being, her baby boy, her Matt, her lifeline, her only child. Smart and unconditionally loved, handsome with a bright future. What happened? What HAPPENED? He took his own life, he could not have known he was taking her life, he would have never done this, had he known - he was taking her life. Leaving behind this amazing mother, woman, wife, friend to live forever jailed by true pain. She understands he was sick - masked beyond recognition, no clues, there still is no clues, 9 years later – no signs that can be thought of or remembered. He was popular, handsome, excellent grades – no girlfriend problems, nothing – no failing grades – nothing….. There had to be something- he took his life – leaving her to ask, how could I have been a good mother and not known my son was in true pain?

I listen, I cry, I love, I care, I pray but nothing I do releases her jailed spirit. It hurts and it's frustrating – is there more I could be doing? Is being a compassionate friend enough? I try to get her out, she doesn't want to get out, she doesn't want to get dressed most days, she is pushed by him – her husband. Who must be in true pain too – but stays strong for her. Does she share with him the thoughts she shares with me? I question because she only shares with me when he isn't near. Does he know how broken she truly is? He must – he was his life, his baby boy, his only child – but was he his lifeline? It doesn't appear so… from the outside – none of us know what's going on in others from looking in from the outside.

I feel honored she takes her mask off with me and shares her true pain. I feel such an urgency to make her smile, to make her laugh, to repair her broken spirit. Is what I am doing enough? What more could I do? I listen, I cry, I love, I care and I pray….. what more can I do?

Suicide is a result of true pain - an illness…. it's malignant – it spreads true pain to the ones left behind and it eats them away slowly day after day after day leaving a hollow look that only someone who has been jailed by its symptoms can understand.

~ deeper undercurrent of thought