Under...Stand

 Though the air was icy, it was the soothing kind of cold rather than the kind that felt painful. She was grateful for that. Everyone around her seemed to be experiencing the painful kind of cold. The soothing cold allowed her to help her loved ones struggling through pain. "It's ok," she'd say. "I can take it. I can handle it." And she could. Until all of a sudden (or so it would seem), she couldn't. Because all of a sudden, she'd fallen under too. 

She started to tremble as the weight on her shoulders grew. She looked around, hoping the same support she'd given out may now be repaid. But alas, those who would normally help in return seemed to have disappeared. Others around those struggling seemed completely blind and apparently oblivious to the struggle. As if it wasn't going on at all.

Or, did those others around her think she could handle it just fine? Because she always did? Or was that just how it looked from the outside? How it seemed? Sure, she might have buckled and bent over backwards sometimes. But she didn't break. Right? At that question, she wanted to scream, or at the very least, raise an eyebrow. How could they know that? How could they be sure? Because behind closed doors, beneath the surface, hiding inside, she had started to break. 

Inside, she was breaking. And no one seemed to notice. If they did, she had to wonder if they cared. Because no one was doing anything. Unless she were mistaken, it seemed they felt it was ok for her to fall. Maybe, they needed her to fall. Maybe, the sound of her crashing would snap them out of whatever was distracting them. Maybe then, their eyes would be opened and they'd see. 

Or maybe, just maybe, they'd fallen too. Maybe, everyone was succumbing to the cold, the same way as those before her. The same as she had. If that was the case, couldn't they all support each other? Stand together? Maybe struggling and shaky, but standing nonetheless? 

A rush of cool air hit her as she something, or rather someone, someones, either side of her to help support her standing. The people she'd longed for had reappeared to stand by her, soft smiles on their faces. I'm here. I see you, they seemed to say. I've got you. 

She slipped an arm around each of them, unable to help but smile back. "And I've got you."     

It Will Be...

For such three small words, there were a vast array of reactions; 

vigorous head shaking; 

"... but..."

"... no it won't"; 

"... but... it's anything but.." 

The ending you were actually going for was; …ok. So the sentence as a whole read; It will be ok.  

"But it won't be," she says again, tears trailing the well worn track from her eyes. "it's anything but." 

"I know," you say. "I know it feels that way." 

"It feels that way..." You can't help tensing at the way their voice grows louder with each word. "It feels that way because that's the way it is." 

You take a breath, mustering every ounce of patience you can find. "Right now." You pause for another breath. "But it might not always be that way. Do you think that just maybe, sometime soon, it might just be ok?" 

She shrugs. It's not complete acceptance, but it's not flat out refusal either. It's something in between. It's something, and you'll take it. 

"I think that it will be," I say. "I think that it will be ok."