photo of the day
As sometimes happened he was silent for a while and i didn’t think much of it. Only after a few months he asked if we could talk, he needed to tell me something. He had been ill. Seriously ill.
‘But, fucking hell, why dindn’t you tell me? Why? Maybe I could have done something, be there for you?’
‘Oh God no’, he said. ‘Yet another one asking me how are you? BAD! i’m doing bad! How do you feel? Crap, I feel like crap. Can I do anything for you? No! I’m sorry but even you (yes, cynically) can do nothing!’
All these well ment questions had added up to an insurmountable pile of unanswered mails and messages for which he didn’t have the energy to answer, not even one. He felt guilty and even more miserable then he already did over every single one of them. And needless to say he wasn’t feeling to jolly already.
But… but… But what if I promise I won’t ask. I won’t. Not once. I will send you the sun, even if it is just one ray. A flower, so you know it looks like spring at least somewhere on the planet. You don’t have to do anything, don’t react. Just let me have the feeling I can be there for you.