Letter to...

Dear man,

As I lay there, crumbled and twisted, literally trapped under my own stupidness, you crawled through the chunks of windscreen. You lay, belly pressed to glass, chatting to me about my hobbies, my interests. Tucked me under a manky old jumper. You searched through the shards of plastic to find my brand new phone. You told me I was going to make it, and I believed you.

As the car was lifted and my hand finally freed. It hurt. Really hurt. You stayed. You strapped.  You told me not to move. You cared, really cared, about the 17 year old bloody mess before you.

For you. I was a job. A horrible job but a job none the less. For me, you made the worst time in my life survivable.

Thank you.

Five Minute Friday - Listen

Linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker here for five minute Friday.

So, my ears are open and I'm listening. Straining to hear the words behind the words. To see that look in my friends eye that means her 'I'm fine' is not fine at all. I listen with arms and heart open and tears running down   and sorrow hidden behind a mask of composure. I listen and I'm hear and I want to fix things. I really want to fix things. So many people are going through so much. And I know, I know I can't fix the actual problems so I sit. Offering tea and sandwiches. Letting these problems know I'm here, I'm fighting. I'm listening.