She looks in the mirror and paints her face because a painted smile is easier than a plastic one and makeup is cheaper than a surgeon. She’s beautiful and she’s the only one who doesn’t know it. She’s lost in the dark. Running. Searching. She’s buried waist deep and the ones she thought would dig her out are burying her alive. She’s been buried deeper than this before and dug her way out but the scratches are still on her and her broken nails haven’t grown in yet. She reveals herself little by little but life has proven she doesn’t need to scratch herself. Others will hit and then run even faster than she is. She collides in a shower of sparks over and over again. She’s drawn to the light but the lights are slowly going out. One by one the darkness is descending.
Fingers. A hand grasps hers and holds on tight. I squeeze and promise to never let go. I can’t promise to fix you or heal you or even dig you out. I can only promise that I’ll be in the hole with you. Just don’t stop digging. I can’t promise that I’ll leave without leaving a scratch on you. I can only promise that I’ll understand what it is to be scratched. I can’t promise healing I can only promise that there is always a possibility. I can’t provide answers. I can just promise that I’ll be there as you figure out the questions. I don’t know everything but I know you and I know that are strong. You are incredible. You are worth so much. You have been through so much and you will be through so much more. And you will be amazing. You’re the only one who doesn’t know it.