Inside

"Come in," he said, his voice pleading and hoping. "Come in and hold me. Just for awhile. Hold me. I miss you. That is all I need. I only need you to hold me."

He felt small in the big room. Small and needing me, needing my comfort.

He needs me. I am a healer. Who am I to deny one who needs to be healed.

It is a thought that stops me at times. When do I heal? When do I need to turn from that Gift?

"Please, Angie. Please. Just for awhile."

It is my love, my tenderness, my gentleness that he misses. It is that which he once had and threw away, carelessly and uncaringly. Unknowingly, he threw away the greatest gift he could have ever had.

He threw away me.

And with that being said, I still want to hold him. I still want to ease his pain. I still want to heal him.

But I can't.

So I left.

And feel even more empty than I felt before.

Alone.

Vulnerable.

Wounded.

Hold me, please. Hold me. Cherish me.

Someone, please! See me for who I am. Love me for who I am. Inside.

And now, I weep.