Thank You To A Stranger

Hi,

I don't know you, you don't know me, I just stumbled upon your advice
page on postlapsaria and navigated my way to your LJ. I've been having
serious doubts about my relationship with my live-in boyfriend and
have been having a miserable, lonely weekend (stupid holidays taking
all my friends away). Reading your writing, particularly your
reflections on valuing your own love lost, has been incredibly
cathartic and has inspired me to get journaling again. In any case,
this being Thanksgiving weekend, I thought I should pass along some
gratitude. Thanks for realizing (and affirming, for me) that there is
a space for constructive breakups, that they can hurt like hell, but
still be good for all involved. Thanks for reminding me that loving is
not confined to one person, that loving once means we can love again.
And, thanks for standing up for nerdy, awkward love, because it's
loveable.

I'm sure your words are a comfort to more people than you know

- KK



Lady, you just proved Karma exists in one, fell swoop.

I'll explain in the form of a story.

Earlier this week, I was walking out of the parking garage at work. As I was nearing the exit, I saw a young, attractive, african-american security guard driving up the ramp.

She was in tears.

I saw her drive right past me, red faced with a lip quivering as it will when your body sometimes violently begins to shake.

I could tell it was one of those strong, physical reactions to emotional suffering. I felt really bad for this woman who drove past my reality at 17 miles per hour.

To be honest, the thought left my mind as I went back to the office.

But at the end of the night, as I walked back to my car, I saw her there, sitting inside the glass security booth.

As her partner got up and left the booth for a moment, I felt like it was the least embarrassing moment to interact.

"Excuse me," I said. She looked up at me with tired eyes. "I was walking out of the garage today, and I think I saw you driving in. I thought I saw you crying. Was that you?"

She nodded. Her eyes started to get a little glassy. Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up, but it was too late.

"Should I ask what's wrong?" I said. I was much less sure of myself in this interaction than I am with a week old email from a stranger.

"Relationship issues." She said. "A breakup," she added.

I could tell it stung for her to say it. She tried to hold it together while I tried to find words. I wasn't exactly in rare form. I didn't know her name, or her situation, all I knew was she was in pain, and that didn't give me a lot to say aside from "I'm sorry."

I through out whatever terms of encouragement I could find, but I wasn't even sold on my own words. I think I ended on "You're going to be okay, I know it."

She nodded. "Thank you," was all she got out before another tear ran down her face.

I walked to my car, disappointed in myself for failing to deliver something that felt real, or honest, or effective. How can the guy who people say is so helpful over the goddamn internet be so clueless and speechless in real life?

As I drove out of the garage, I decided to give it a last ditch effort. I parked outside and opened my bag.

I took out a notebook and a pen, and I started to write.

I wrote the truth. That I didn't know her, her situation, even her name, but my heart went out to her. That these things take time, but we always come out stronger, wiser, better for having gone through it.

That she'll love again, find happiness again, and in the meantime it was important to talk to those who know how to listen.

I told her that I've been in her shoes, stuck suffering silently at work while everyone else goes about their business. That I've felt sick with heartache and wondered how I could ever feel whole again.

But I am whole. I am healthy, capable of happiness, joy, all of the feelings I knew when I was a part of another human being. They all come back in various forms.

And as a devastating breakup survivor, I gave my official opinion: it's just another step in the journey of the human heart. Another test to make sure it's all working, it's all operational.

I think I was a little more eloquent than that. Maybe a little less grandiose as well. I think the handwriting added on the charm and cut back on the cheese.

I walked back to the booth and slid the note under the window to her, then waved goodbye. I didn't sign it, didn't leave a number or a name.

Just the good wishes of a fellow human being.

I recounted the story to only two people that night, and one of them assured me that that act would come back to me somehow.

I'd like to think that this very email counts.

I'm not a perfect person. I can be stubborn and mean-spirited from time to time, bitter and resentful if wounded.

But kindness like this is what I hope resides in all of us, and an avenue like this column gives me the opportunity to exercise it from time to time.

And to feel it come back in my direction.

Thanks to everyone who reads, writes, and generally gives me hope in the human race.

And to folks like KK who take the time to let me know I'm being heard in an effective and inspiring manner.

Here's hoping the voice grows with the audience...

Send all of your questions to askdrewlindo@gmail.com.