What a humbling night this has been. I really do not know what to say, except to tell you what happened.
I went to check in on Shannon today, intending only to stay a few moments. Somewhat to my surprise, I found her in low spirits, and not regarding anything related to Thomas, either. She was sitting on her couch, staring at her phone, and there were tears in her eyes.
As I watched, she touched the screen to pull up her voice messages. There was one there that she had saved for a very long time—from the date on the screen, it was exactly a year old. She hesitated, then played it.
A voice came from the phone that I didn’t recognize. “Hey, babe, it’s me! I got your present. You know me so well, firecracker. I’m going to wait to break into it until you’re back around, so we can share it. I miss you like crazy. I hope you’re having fun, not working too hard. I love you, Shan. I’ll see you soon.”
A simple message, and one that told me nothing about who it was. Yet Shannon was blinking away tears. Suddenly she threw the phone away and collapsed into heartrending sobs.
It took me some time to discover what had brought this on. Her emotions were so powerful and so tangled that I could not tell whether it was fear, or despair, or hurt, or something else that brought her to this. But there was a name that she kept repeating to herself, and this began to give me a clue. Apparently, today is Alex’s birthday, her long-term boyfriend with whom she broke up last summer. I thought that she had simply discovered she did not love him as much as he loved her, but clearly that is not the case.
“Then why?” I asked her, two of my wings resting across her shoulders. “Why did you leave him?”
She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue. “I’ve ruined everything,” she sobbed into the air. “I had something amazing and I just—threw it away. What the hell is wrong with me?” Then she laughed with a bitterness and a self-loathing that cut deep into me. “Mark was right. I’m a spoiled, entitled bitch.” This brought on another round of wordless sobs. I could only sit with her in her pain, regretting the moment that I had agreed with Mark’s assessment of her character. I had not realized how deeply the words had cut her.
When she could breathe again, she continued to talk—maybe some part of her sensed my presence, or maybe she only needed to speak aloud to sort through her feelings. “I was too damn good for him,” she said. “Thought I was too good for anyone. But he was so sweet to me, and he knew me—he was the only person who might have put up with me—” She pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to stifle her tears.
“What am I even doing?” she cried. “I don’t know what I want, where I want to go, what I want to be! What am I doing with my life?” Again she laughed, the sound hysterical in the empty apartment. “Except ruining it.” She covered her eyes with her hands and fell down onto the couch. “I’m going to die alone, and no one will care.”
If those words had been repeated to me by another, I might have simply believed that Shannon was only feeling sorry for herself, or being overdramatic. But I was there, and I felt her self-recrimination, the accusations she leveled mercilessly at her own self. Tonight I saw in her what she has been hiding with her pride and her fierceness, which is a bone-deep insecurity. She does not know what she wants or even who she is. She is so very lost, and what keeps her going is simply bravado, the need to appear competent.
In fact, to continue when the darkness closes so deep around you is true courage.
I have been cruel to this girl. I have been dismissive of her, when all this time she has been holding herself together by fragile threads. She has been completely alone, and I have not given her the comfort or support that she always needed. I judged her, believing that she did not deserve my help. I thought I was too good for her.
That changes tonight.
I stayed with Shannon as long as I possibly could, and a bit longer, even. She cried herself to sleep, and even then I remained, speaking strength and love into her spirit. After all, this is all she needs—real love, something to light up her darkness, to fill her and teach her who she wants to be. I held her and I gave her every bit of love I had, to strengthen her soul.
It was not enough, of course, to make up for the unkindness that I have shown her so far, but I will do better. I will find a love that can help her, and I will stay with her, and I will never, never be unkind to her again. I will not fail her. After all, I am all that she has.