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The hate of a divorcing

How do you tell your best friend that she needs to divorce her wife? When do you say it? That’s an easy one to answer: you don’t.

You don’t tell her that she needs to leave the person that she loves.

You don’t tell her that she is putting her own health and sanity at risk. You don’t tell her that this person is destroying her and at the end of the day, either they’ll survive or they won’t, but not a single damn thing she does will change that.

You don’t tell her that her wife is one of the most selfish people you’ve ever met.

You don’t tell her any of these things. Here’s what you do actually do (that helps, you hope, you pray):
1. You hold her hand when she cries.
2. You hug her tightly every time you can.
3. You buy her little gifts to make her smile.
4. You make her playlists of music to cheer her up.
5. You make her playlists of music to let her know you were thinking of her.
6. You go to coffee, tea, dinner, lunch, and brunch with her any time she’s available – your schedule doesn’t count in the face of this.
7. You take long walks with her and take her on long drives with the windows down and the stereo blasting.
8. You sit there, quietly, and listen.
9. You love her enough for the love she is missing.
10. You love her enough for the love she deserves.

I want to shout it from the rooftops. I want to take her in my arms and whisper it to her in her ears. I want to hold her by the arms to shake her and shout at her. “Leave her!”

Instead, I hold her hand so tightly that I leave marks. When I can, I wipe her tears with my fingertips. When I can’t, I close my eyes and give her the privacy she requires to wipe them herself.

I love her; I love her; I love her. I love her enough to give her my shoulders and my strength. I love her enough to be a solid rock when she shakes against my chest. I love her enough to keep my silence.

But I can’t help thinking that is still not enough.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

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