Those with quiet, fracturing hearts
A friend is still battling her feelings for an abusive ex-boyfriend. Another’s been googling online for “suicide”, and Renee just broke off her one-year-old relationship with Brit Pete.
That’s three, and three too many. Who knows how many more people out there - colleagues and friends whom I don’t stay as often in touch with - are walking around with quiet, fracturing hearts? I often think of my situation is an extraordinary example of dramatic irony. I love Rusty, and he loves me. It is this love that makes his condition awful to bear. It is also this love that makes it bearable.
Melanoma brought us together. It threatens to tear us apart. Life is fucked up like that, and I don’t know that it gets easier, or that things become clearer the longer we stick around. But with every cut, we heal, and we learn. Life would probably be a lot less meaningful for someone who has it all figured out. So to my friends: Hang in there. This, too, shall pass. And we shall all emerge stronger and more divine.