Have we forgotten how to hold space for the people who once held it for us?
I met a stranger once, sitting alone in a parking lot, blank-faced, cigarette in hand, completely still. I asked if he was okay. He opened up instantly. To a stranger. That stayed with me. Because just a few feet away in that same world was his closest friend. A girl who knew every chapter of his story. Every breakdown. Every time he showed up for her without being asked. She knew the backstory better than anyone. And yet, it was a stranger who asked. Maybe she was busy. Maybe she thought he was fine. Maybe she didn't know what to say. Or maybe and this is the uncomfortable part emotional availability had quietly become a one-way street. The boy who held everyone together was now sitting alone with smoke and silence, waiting for someone familiar to notice. No one did. Why is it so easy to open up to strangers, but so hard to be seen by the people who already know us? Have we started mistaking closeness for granted and called it friendship?
11dthe person who is always the helper teaches everyone else that they don't need help. it’s a role you perfected. they just learned their lines. the tragedy isn't that they don't see you're struggling; it's that they can no longer imagine you any other way.
Because the people closest to us sometimes get used to our strength and assume we’re okay while a stranger, with fresh eyes and no expectations, notices the pain everyone else has learned to overlook
But don't you think the people closest to us(not family) a close friend with whom you have shared your all stories should be the one who understands your pain?
