ericdravyn

Henry says:

"Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have."

So, what happens when you become (or have been for years) the one that everyone calls when they are in need, when they have an emergency, when they need to talk to someone in the middle of the night...?

What happens when you have put yourself in that position and realize that you are extremely capable of taking care of others, but not yourself...?

Who, then, do you call when you are the one everyone else always calls?