Every time I feel the entire world crumbling around me, I withdraw into my own little coccoon, shutting away from everyone and everything. I even begin to forget people. Because it’s easier that way. Easier to drown in my own mental melée than to face the reality that even when things don’t seem right, it will always get better.
Yet, every time I hit the lowest of the low, when I feel that I am the most worthless person in this lifetime, when I look at myself and begin to wonder… I get a phone call.
From Frank. Always Frank.
It’s as if he knows. That I need the one conversation that will mean the world at that very moment. Even when I haven’t spoken to him beyond an e-mail two months ago, where I didn’t discuss anything, but rather focussed on questions of him, his life and the weather. I never say anything, I never disclose what distresses me, and yet, when I reach the depths of my absolute misery, he somehow picks up the phone and calls.
Listening to his words of encouragement, the infusion of self-worth I so desperately need, I am able to drag myself up just a little to do what I should be doing. To do it right. I wouldn’t say I’m completely out of it, but rather more aware of certain knowledge. The knowledge that just a little bit of hope and faith of heart, everything will eventually fall into place. All I needed was a reminder.
Watching