I...Me...My...

I am spending the weekend...with a good friend...I am answering the questions of another...and I have someone very special...in my life...who is dealing with something...very personal...and painful...and I am trying desperately...to express my willingness to focus...on their needs...at a moments notice...

I tried...several times...to write the text...that would express my every thought...that would give them space...and let them know that I am lying in wait...for anything they need...that my thoughts are with them...that I find nothing more important...than being there...for them...I asked my good friend...if I was wording my thoughts...in a way...that spoke beyond...I questioned her thoughts...I countered her arguments...and then I scrubbed everything...as I worked through my fears and frustrations...of expressing my feelings...and having them understood...

I pondered...what needed to be said...I rewrote the text...I read it out loud...and then silently...I stared at my phone...me...a writer...I wanted to say the just right words...I erased...I re-wrote...I read it out loud...again...then I sent it...and stared at my phone again...I wondered...was this appropriate...was I too intrusive...had I said everything I needed to...would they understand all...that I could not say...

As I scrubbed my bathroom...after my kitchen...I thought...how much of my evening...had been thinking about them...that person struggling...in pain...and...I began...by counting the times that I say I...in all of my conversations...all the moments...that I place myself...in the center of situations...where I can be the center...where I worry...about another's reactions...not because I want them to be most comfortable ...but because...I worry about their response to me...

I realized...that I was irrefutably...embarrassed to be me...that all my intentions...were in need of questioning...and that I...although...I could point a finger...at my childhood...raising myself...fighting to survive...then surviving...and fighting to blend...to be more...to be heard...to make a difference...to leave my mark...that no matter the results...I had no one to blame...but me...

I wondered...how much of our reaching out to others...was really about us...the simple act...of one person...laying their hand in the hand of another...starts with us...so...how much is about someone else...when they are quietly wrestling...with...anything...and we know this...how do we drop our needs...how do we offer everything to another...and not insert...ourselves...into the prominent portion...of the equation...

Maybe we can't...maybe that is the twist in life...we reach out for others...and it's really about us...Maybe that's why English teachers...stop us...from using the words...I...me...my...from essays...and people create bumper stickers that say...I care about this because...or if I need your opinion I'll give it to you...Maybe this is why Emily Post has to write books...about courtesy...and others shake there heads...over our faux pas...as they talk about the correct way they handle things...

And...through all this...my special someone...is struggling...to figure how they will deal...with what matters to them most...and...I can't stop counting...as I read this piece...how many times...that I have said...

I...me...my...