She held out her hand to me and I felt my heart tremble in moments.
I reached out and let her pull me in, her arms wrapping around my weary shoulders.
I could feel her stroke my hair as she whispered hopeful promises in my ear.
“It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, we’ll all be okay.”
I looked up at her, my hands still shaking regardless of how tight I was holding on.
“I’m sorry… I tried to think of the good, to feel the good, but I’m just lost here.” I stuttered and she smiled at me, although her eyes were somber.
“Do I need to remind you that we are all lost? That we are all questioning this crazy world of ours? That time passes just as quickly for everyone else as it does for you?” She released me, and squeezed my shoulders, tilting her head forward, giving me her “mother” look. We were about the same age. Been friends since we were eight, but she’d still do this to me.
“I can’t stand the thought of you being lost too.” I said, my throat beginning to swell. She laughed.
“You want to know the funny thing about being lost?” She put her hand in mine. “We are all lost. But we are lost together. So. Are we truly lost? Are we truly alone?”
I felt my insides crumble.
“But we can’t be lost together forever.” I choked and looked away, not wanting her to see my tears, regardless of her seeing plenty of them through the years we’ve known each other.
“Hey. Hey. I didn’t say you could cry now. And didn’t you hear me? Not lost. You’re not lost. You’re here, with me, with your family, with every person in this world whose lives you’ve touched. Being lost is being caught in the woods at night with no way back home. You are here now in this moment, found. You will always be found – you shine too brightly not to be.” She embraced me again and I could feel the tears fade. A mixture of feelings swirled in my chest, hot and colds that made my insides feel lukewarm, confused, but level, sane (for once). “And if one day I can’t find you, (which I always, always will because I’ve signed away too much of my life to you, you crazy girl), someone else will, and they’ll be telling you the same thing as me.”
“People are idiots. No one’s gonna be as poetic as you.” I sniffed and laughed, tightening my grip on her hand.
“Well, then you gotta be here to teach them a lesson or two on using their brain, alright?”
“Or we can just sit at the coffee shop and quietly make fun of people like we usually do…” I whispered and she laughed, causing me to laugh, causing us to laugh – A cycle of laughter. Something I haven’t experienced in too long.
“I think we’re due for a coffee shop excursion, don’t you?” She pulled my hand towards the door.
“Lead the way.” I felt a smile on my lips. It was warm.