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xelda
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I told him that if he wanted to share his pain, I could take it.
I told him that I loved how easy it was to make him laugh.
He told me that he appreciated my willingness to hold his pain, but that the laughter was what he wanted.
So I went at it as relentlessly as I could. The laughs kept coming, resonant, forming a warm blanket over the pain.
I felt like I was offering all that I could, while still keeping myself intact.
But now there's this nagging thought: If I had known, I would have given more, and recovered later.
But there was no way to know.
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151111
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