The last few days have been tough. I've got some friends dealing with some serious problems, and I've tried to be there for them. Imperfectly, I know, but I've been thinking about them and their worries for a while.
Last night, I finally got a chance to talk with the boy around 10:30. By then I was tired and getting close to weepy. He told me about what's going on with him, and then he said, "So what's going on with you? How's work?" I told him that I didn't want to talk about work because there's so much background information required that it just wasn't worth the effort. "Tell me," he replied softly.
So I tried to talk about two coworkers and how I'm worried for my own position when one returns, and I tried to explain about their personalities, but then I just gave up. It was quiet for a minute, and then the boy spoke.
"Honey," he said sweetly, "When you get up here, let's take one evening and let me wrap you in my favorite blanket and just hold you. Just let me take care of you. You need it too."
Six weeks and counting.
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