Kind regards, two small words used a hundred times a day, yet through tear stained eyes they became the hardest words to write. Taking deep breaths, a simple solution, but right now that seemed the most impossible task.
She knew this was not right. These words typed out on a blank page in front of her did not matter, yet she continued to write them as if her life depended on it. If a simple task could not be completed, where could she go from here?
For hours she continued to type, tears flooding her face. The weight of the tears felt like she was being pushed further and further underwater, with no ground in sight and nothing to catch her fall.
As the sun started to set, the tears dried up. There was nothing left. She just sat, feeling numb. Floating in the dark waters around her, looking all around to find the light to escape into. Desperately needing someone, anyone, to reach down and pull her out.
As she sat so still, not wanting to make a sound. She realised the hand that she so desperately wanted, needed, to save her, was her own. She needed to reach out and ask for help. The only way anyone would know she was trapped under all this water was to make a splash, wave her arms and speak out.
As she opened her mouth to call, the water started to flow inside. She could not breathe. Could not speak.
The water was stronger than her but if she did not fight, she would fall. Deeper and deeper until the top of the water could not be seen and would always be out of reach.
She fought like never before. She kicked away the water. She stretched so high to the top, willing for something to meet her when she finally made it. Willing to feel the love and familiarity she so desperately needed.
She was not sure what the weather was outside that day. All she could feel were the dark clouds smothering her. Looking back, it was as if someone else was telling this story. She was just a bystander, desperately wanting to help the girl. Desperately wanting to take her in her arms, wipe away the tears and somehow help her breathe again.
Yet, it was not someone else’s story. She was not a bystander. She was not just listening to someone else, her heart breaking with each word spoken.
The story was hers and it was now a part of who she was. A story that she would carry with her forever. A story that would make her stronger.
A story that would change her life.
Kind regards, two simple words that kept her afloat. Two words that on that day gave her a purpose to continue.
She often looks back wondering how she made it through that day. The work was not important. It should have been left, but if it had, so would she.
Comments